Louisa Glasson and the Green Mermaid
by Stella Dellasera
Summary: Louisa and James Henry take a holiday to visit her brother and are drawn into an adventure with him and his friends that will test the strength of Louisa's feelings for Martin. Set some months after S5E8 and before S6E1, with a special AU mystery guest appearance.
1. Chapter 1

For anyone familiar with my previous stories, I know M rated stories are not to everyone's taste so rest assured this one, being concerned with family matters, is appropriately family friendly. Well, mostly. It also concerns history, mystery, medicine, mythology, intrigue, humour, romance, emotional angst, and scuba diving. I originally wrote the first draft in 2013 but when S6 aired I went back and almost completely rewrote it, so there are now some S6 spoilers but presumably every DM fan is all caught up by now.

Disclaimer: All characters, places, and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures and I would never dream of infringing on any rights of the owners, producers, or anyone else connected with the show.

Chapter 1: Road Trip

Sunday Morning.

The sky was a perfect blue dome, the Atlantic breeze blew softly, and a gentle sun beamed down on the moor as a polished silver Lexus flew along the country road.

Louisa Glasson angled the rear view mirror to check on little James Henry asleep in his baby seat in back. She had so been looking forward to this trip now that summer holidays had begun but all she felt was gloomy at the moment.

She had made a point of waking at dawn to snuggle against Martin, running her hand along his back, feeling his warmth beneath the soft cotton pyjamas, and moving slowly down the curve of his bum, hoping he would rouse enough for her to give him a fond farewell before the baby awoke and demanded his breakfast, and before she and James went away for the week. Martin did respond, very well in fact, and afterward they lay together, as she stroked his close cropped hair and regarded the blond lashes on his closed eyes, and his round, prominent nose, those sensual lips, and those voluptuous ears. The months since his declaration of love for her at the moment of crisis at Pentire Castle were the happiest she had ever been with him, possibly the happiest months of her life.

The moment was perfect to whisper what she had been thinking for some time now. "Martin. We should try for another one."

He smiled his little half-smile, the one he reserved almost exclusively for her and James Henry. Opening his pale blue-grey eyes, he murmured in the velvet tone that made her melt, "if you're up for it, let me rest a bit and I'll see what I can do. I'm not a teenager you know."

"No silly, I mean another baby. A little brother or sister for James."

"Oh Louisa." He rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. The perfect moment was over. "You already insist on working full time while caring for one baby. And besides, we're so happy with James Henry it seems unnecessary to have a second one. I was perfectly happy as an only child."

"Martin, how can you say…" She was exasperated at this latest example of his seeming cluelessness about his dysfunctional upbringing. "Well I have a brother, and it made a big difference for me growing up."

"At your age it's unlikely you would become pregnant again so easily, in addition to an increased risk of birth defects such as Down syndrome. At my age the genetic quality of sperm will likely have deteriorated, along with volume and motility. There is evidence for a paternal age effect for a number of conditions and diseases, such as miscarriage and, erm… autism spectrum disorder."

He turned to face her. "It just doesn't seem like a good idea. In fact… I had been considering having a vasectomy done."

Louisa looked at him, horrified. He hastened to assure her he was only considering it for her convenience, "to spare you the burden of dealing with contraception. Of course I would have discussed it with you first."

Down the hall, the baby was beginning to fuss. Now thoroughly annoyed, Louisa got up to start what was looking to be a full and busy day.

When Martin joined her downstairs, he was wearing his all-too-familiar grumpy expression. He started up the espresso machine and began to prepare the eggs and toast, as she gave James his bottle.

"Would you like me to go over the car, make sure everything's in order before you set off?" he asked.

"No need, I've already seen to it."

There was a tense silence until he just couldn't stop himself from escalating the argument.

"So if having a brother was such a fulfilling experience for you, why haven't you seen him in eight years, hmm? He didn't turn up for our, er, non-wedding, or for James Henry's christening. Even your mother has been round to see the baby."

Louisa was getting even more annoyed. "He was living in Greece for some time. He's only recently back in Cornwall, but… you know my Dad's dodgy ways made things a bit uncomfortable for us Glassons here. I've made my own way in Portwenn so people have long since gotten past it for me, but, well… Tom's still a bit sensitive about what people say, and he always liked a bit of gambling himself, so a lot of people always thought he was cut from the same cloth as our Dad."

"Well he is, isn't he?" Martin backed down from the glare he got in response. "I suppose he doesn't show the same criminal inclinations, but he does sound like an aimless sort. And why do you and James Henry have to go off for a whole week to see him? Hardly seems necessary."

"Martin, I told you Tom doesn't feel comfortable coming back to Portwenn, especially since Dad's most recent visit here didn't exactly smooth things over with the villagers. If anything, he's more like Mum, always had a bit of the wanderlust." She could see that wasn't exactly winning over Martin either. "Anyway, I want to see my brother again and I want my son to get to know his uncle, and that's that."

So, despite her best efforts, they hadn't parted on the best of terms, but as she put some distance between her and Portwenn she began feeling better about getting away for a while. The day was gorgeous and she was excited about seeing her big brother again.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Map and A Visitor

Sunday Midday

As she exited the motorway, Louisa followed the car's GPS, made her way into the village, and carefully manoeuvred through the narrow streets until she found a parking space close to the harbour. She lifted the still sleepy baby into his pushchair, grabbed his nappy bag, and started out. They strolled along the high street and up to the little lane where a row of white cottages overlooked the harbour. She found the right one, Chough Cottage, and knocked.

"Lou Lou!" Tom was delighted to see her. "How's my baby sister? You haven't changed a bit, well except for having this little one tagging along with you now."

Tom hadn't changed much either in the eight years since she had last seen him. Just a bit taller than Louisa, his dark hair was more streaked with grey now. The Mediterranean sun had deepened the ruddy complexion he had inherited from their mother. His hazel eyes were marked by crow's feet and a tendency to squint, typical of a man in his early 40s who spent much of his life on boats.

James Henry was more awake by now and he allowed his uncle to pick him up and usher them inside. It was a pleasant enough little home, sunny and with a view of the water. Louisa noted it was similar in layout to the one back home she had leased from Mr. Routledge when she was pregnant. They sat down and had a chance to catch up on things.

"So it didn't work out with Selini from Santorini?" Louisa asked.

"It was good for a while. She would take the tourists around the island and tell them about Atlantis. I would take them out on fishing excursions. Then she started wanting more, the usual, marriage and kids. I'm just not suited for that kind of responsibility. She's better off without me."

"Hmmm." Louisa frowned, thinking his words were all too reminiscent of what their mother had said in the note she left when she took off for Spain, abandoning her husband and young children so many years ago. It's just as well Tom left Santorini before starting a family, she thought, but he looked so down talking about his former girlfriend she didn't say anything.

"So tell me all about this doctor bloke," Tom changed the subject. "Mum said he's a bit of a… well a bit brusque at times."

"Well he and Mum clashed yeah, but let's face it, Mum isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with herself. So you've seen her then?"

Tom explained that he had gone to Málaga to spend Christmas with Eleanor. "That's what gave me the idea to come back to Cornwall. Of course, I wanted to see you and my new nephew, but I had another plan in mind too. Sort of two birds with one stone. I'll, er, explain about that later. Let's go out and get some sunshine and some lunch."

They walked to the car park to get the other bags and the portable baby cot from the car boot. Tom admired the Lexus. "LS 460, brilliant! So this doctor is good to you, eh?"

Louisa was embarrassed about the posh car. "It's his really, he just put me on his insurance. I had sold my old car when I went to London for a while, Martin insisted on getting me another one to use now I've settled back in Portwenn. It's in the shop now and the baby seat was already in this one so it made sense for me to take it."

"So what sort of sensible mum vehicle did he get you?"

"Um, a white Lexus," she mumbled, eager to change the subject. "So what are you doing now? On the phone you said something about working on a boat?"

"Yeah, my mate Harvey, he lost his lobster boat in a squall last autumn and then a week later his great-uncle in Plymouth died and left him a boatload of cash. Sort of a bad news-good news situation. So he used the money to buy a bigger boat, second hand 25-foot Treeve boat, and we've been remodelling it, new engine and all new fittings, he calls it his Dream Boat now. Harvey'll be here at dinner and I've got another mate stopping by later. Right now, I thought we'd get some sandwiches for now, sit outside, and this young man" - James was starting to grizzle - "can have his bottle."

* * *

><p>Like their mother, Tom was quite a good cook. He got to work on some Greek specialties, while Louisa settled in James upstairs for the night. She brought the baby monitor down to the kitchen so she could set the table and chat with him and his friend, who introduced himself as Harvey Steel.<p>

"Any relation to, uh, Danny Steel, from Portwenn?" Louisa had noticed a definite resemblance. Harvey was about the same height, with the same curly dark hair and good looks as Danny, but perhaps more rugged and outdoorsy, wearing a cowry shell on a leather necklace, and speaking with a slight Cornish accent.

"Danny's my cousin. I think I remember something about you and him being an item at one time?"

"That was ages ago." Louisa went with a little white lie, grateful that Harvey seemed unaware of her more recent relationship with Danny. "We're still friends but he's off in London pursuing his career. No, I'm very much involved with Martin, that's this young man's Dad," she said, happily pointing to the image of the sleeping James Henry on the baby monitor.

"I thought we'd start with a nice _psarosoupa _and some retsina," said Tom, bringing out a steaming tureen of Greek-style fish soup and a wine bottle.

Later, as the summer sun fell low across the harbour, they finished up with some baklava and ouzo served over ice in little cups. Louisa greatly enjoyed the evening. It was times like this she was happy that James was completely weaned now so she was free to indulge in a drink or two, although she still sometimes missed the intimacy of breastfeeding him.

They cleared the table and Tom brought out a leather map tube. "So, uh, we've got something to show you. This was what sparked my interest in coming back to Cornwall, as well as seeing you and the baby of course."

He took out a rolled parchment and carefully spread it out on the tablecloth. It was a map, a very old one from the look of it. "I got it from an antiquities dealer in Málaga when I was visiting Mum," he said. "I don't know if he had any idea of what it is, but being an old sailor myself, I recognized it immediately."

Louisa studied the lines on the map. It looked familiar, but it took her a moment to recognize it as a very rough sketch of the north coast of Cornwall. There were all the natural harbours and little rocky islets, and the sandbars that posed a hazard to unwary sailors. Beside one of the sandbars there was a small, intricate painting, worthy of an illuminated manuscript, depicting a green mermaid holding up some sort of orb, with some words written around it that Tom translated from archaic Spanish as "here lies the _Esmeralda_."

"It's gorgeous," Louisa said. "But what does it mean?"

"You have to promise not to tell anyone," Tom said. "Promise," she replied, very curious now.

"We've done some digging - books, historical records, local folklore, that sort of thing, and we've put together an intriguing tale…" Harvey began.

Their theory was that the _Esmeralda_ was likely a small galleon that had gone ahead of the Spanish Armada in 1588 on a secret mission from King Philip II of Spain to secure an alliance with Hugh O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone, to stage a rebellion against Tudor rule in Ireland. This would distract Queen Elizabeth I enough for the Armada to gain the element of surprise for Philip's planned invasion of England. The _Esmeralda_ carried a treasure on board, a gift from Philip to O'Neill, the most powerful chieftain in Ireland. However, the ship was delayed in its mission, got caught up in the Armada's disastrous battles with the English fleet in the Channel, fled north with its sister ships up and around Ireland intending to go south again in the relative safety of the open Atlantic. The Gulf Stream and strong winds pushed many of the Spanish ships to wreck on the rocky coast of western Ireland.

"But _Esmeralda_, you see, must have escaped becoming a wreck off Ireland, only to be driven off course as she tried to escape back to sunny Spain. Problem was they had no way of reckoning longitude back then, and they didn't reckon on our fierce North Atlantic storms, which are on record as having been unusually strong that year, so she got pushed east-southeast, got hit with a rogue wave, and went down with all hands lost…" Tom finished the tale with a triumphant jab at a spot on the map, "…off North Cornwall."

"Far enough out not to be seen from shore. Someone on a surviving ship must have drawn this to show the approximate location," Harvey added.

Louisa thought the two of them looked like boys ready to dig for treasure in the back garden. "So you think you can find it?"

They both grinned. "That's what the Dream Boat is for," Harvey said. "We've got it just about finished. I've been telling folks we plan to offer commercial diving trips for tourists, no one around here need know what we're up to. There's plenty that would love to sneak in and poach that treasure for themselves if they got word of it. Now if you'll excuse me a moment…" He headed off for the loo upstairs.

"So Tom, Harvey's inheritance covers the whole cost of this project?" Louisa asked.

"Well mostly," her brother said. "He's hardly rich. I came up with the map and the idea, his money pays for the boat, and we have a silent partner too. Just one local chap we let in on the secret. He isn't much good on a boat I'm afraid, but he's up for an adventure and has a bit of money he can invest in it."

There was a knock at the door. "Bet that's him now. Can you get that and I'll get us another bottle."

Louisa opened the front door and was stunned to see a very familiar face. "Martin!"

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Curiouser And Curiouser

Sunday Night

"Yes," said the visitor, smiling. "You must be Tom Glasson's sister. Welcome to Port Liac. Have we met before? I'm sure I would have remembered," he said, practically looking her up and down.

Louisa was speechless. It was him, but not him. There was no mistaking the tall strong body, the pale blue-grey eyes, the nose, the full mouth, even the distinctive ears were just right. And yet, this man was so relaxed, dressed in a fisherman's jumper and jeans, his blondish hair a more casual length, softening the bat-eared look. He was slightly heavier and seemed younger too, right about her own age.

"I'm Martin Bamford," he said in a London accent. He entered the cottage and extended his hand. "Um, Louisa Glasson," she said, grasping his hand but simply holding it as she stared at him, entranced. "Sorry, do you, um, have a twin brother?"

"Ah, no. I'm an only child," the visitor replied, in a bemused tone.

She was aware she must be looking and sounding pretty ridiculous right about now. Why would her Martin have a twin brother neither he nor his aunts had ever mentioned, especially one with the same first name and a different surname? "I'm sorry, you must think me a bit Bodmin," she said. "It's just that… you look like a lot like a… a friend of mine. Do you know Martin Ellingham?"

Bamford stared back at her a moment, no doubt thinking she was far more than just "a bit" Bodmin. "Can't say I do," he replied. He followed her into the dining area, where the others were back at the table. "Tom, you never mentioned how pretty, and, uh, interesting your sister is," he said.

"Sorry." She bit her lip, thinking she must sound like an idiot to this man, apologizing so much. "It's just he sort of looks a bit like my Martin, I was just confused for a moment."

"Doc Martin here is the local GP," Harvey said. "Come down from London a few years back and stuck out like a sore thumb here in Port Liac, but he's well on his way to being a proper Cornishman. He's practically part of the landscape now."

Louisa was amazed to see this Martin didn't seem to mind the silly nickname at all. And he's a doctor too, she thought, how strange is that? Curiouser and curiouser! Seeing her brother again after so long, and looking at his two friends, whom she had just met and yet who seemed so familiar, well already this village was like a Looking-Glass version of home. She had been in Port Liac less than 24 hours but she had already had more fun and intrigue than she'd had in years.

"So," she turned her attention back to the newcomer, thinking it best to change the subject for now. "Tom says you're a silent partner in their top secret project."

"Yes," said the man. "Can't resist seeing what mysteries lie beneath the waves."

"When Tom and I were young, we used to love hearing about Lyonesse* and how it sunk beneath the waves to be lost forever. We used to daydream about finding it," she said. "I memorized a poem† about it for school."

_In sea-cold Lyonesse, _

_When the Sabbath eve shafts down _

_On the roofs, walls, belfries _

_Of the foundered town, _

_The Nereids pluck their lyres _

_Where the green translucency beats, _

_And with motionless eyes at gaze _

_Make ministrely in the streets. _

_And the ocean water stirs _

_In salt-worn casement and porch. _

_Plies the blunt-nosed fish _

_With fire in his skull for torch. _

_And the ringing wires resound; _

_And the unearthly lovely weep, _

_In lament of the music they make _

_In the sullen courts of sleep: _

_Whose marble flowers bloom for aye: _

_And - lapped by the moon-guiled tide - _

_Mock their carver with heart of stone, _

_Caged in his stone-ribbed side. _

"'Unearthly lovely' indeed, said Martin Bamford when she finished.

"I can't believe I remembered all that," she said.

Martin got a dreamy look in his pale eyes, drawing up his own childhood memorization‡:

_A land of old upheaven from the abyss _

_By fire, to sink into the abyss again; _

_Where fragments of forgotten peoples dwelt, _

_And the long mountains ended in a coast _

_Of ever-shifting sand, and far away _

_The phantom circle of a moaning sea. _

"I was fond of the King Arthur stories when I was a kid," he said.

"You two are like old mates already," said Tom. "Come on have a seat, we're ready to open another bottle."

The four of them talked into the night about ancient tales and Spanish galleons and sunken treasure and how Harvey's Dream Boat was finished and tomorrow they would rechristen her and take her out on her maiden voyage.

Through it all, Louisa still couldn't keep her eyes off the newcomer. His blondish hair, his big hands, his broad shoulders, even the curve of his bum, seemed so familiar she had to stop herself from reaching out to touch him. Then there was the unfamiliar way he freely talked and laughed, it was wonderful for her to see. As they all grew increasingly tipsy with ouzo, she tried to remain casual but she knew he was aware of her eyes on him, and when the other two were distracted a moment he looked at her squarely straight across the table and she knew, in spite of herself, there was a spark between them.

_To be continued…_

*Lyonesse is the land that bordered Cornwall in Arthurian legend, said to have sunk Atlantis-like beneath the waves, then to be immortalized in many a poem, song, and story.

†Louisa recites Walter de la Mare's poem _Sunk Lyonesse_.

‡Martin Bamford quotes from Alfred Lord Tennyson's _Idylls of the King_.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: A Little Pickle

Monday Morning

Louisa woke with a headache, as James Henry began fussing for his breakfast. Tom had let her have his bedroom, where there was enough room for the portable cot to be set up, while he took to the spare room for the week. She missed having Martin around to step up and take charge of the baby if she wanted a lie in but she was also grateful that he wasn't around to chide her for drinking too much the night before.

"Sorry darling, Mummy had one too many," she murmured, as she took him downstairs for his bottle and cereal, and some tea, toast, and paracetamol for herself. When she felt better, she dashed off to the bathroom for a quick shower and then gave Martin a call as she had promised.

"Port Liac is lovely. It's a perfect little biscuit tin village, even more so than Portwenn is. The local GP, Dr. Bamford, is a friend of Tom's. He sort of reminds me of you, but not really," Louisa couldn't bring herself to elaborate on that. She felt silly even bringing it up but she wanted to see if it would draw some sort of reaction from Martin. He just grunted.

"How is James Henry? Has he been experiencing teething pain?"

"He's fine. Nothing the teething gel can't handle."

"Well, don't forget to chill the teething rings to have them ready at hand."

"I'm on top of it Martin. Don't worry so much. Everything is under control and we'll be home before you know it."

Martin rang off as Louisa heard Morwenna's voice in the background announcing his next patient.

"Well now, what shall we do today?" she said to James Henry. Tom and Harvey were down at the harbour getting the Dream Boat ready for her rechristening that afternoon. "It's another lovely day, let's take a stroll, shall we? Maybe get some ice cream?"

She brushed his soft hair, put his little shoes on him, and got him into his pushchair. When they got down to the harbour, she noticed him chewing on the little finger of his right hand. Looking closer, she could see a fine blond hair, one of his own, wrapped tightly about the finger, which was turning from pink to red. She picked at it but it refused to come loose.

"How did you manage to get yourself in this pickle, my love?"

Was his finger turning blue now? It dawned on her that this odd little situation might be serious. She fumbled in her bag, hoping to find some nail scissors, even though she knew she didn't have any. Should she call Martin? What could he do over the phone? She looked around at the crowd of oblivious tourists walking by, and there, practically right in front of her, was a sign: "Port Liac Surgery." She ran in with the pushchair, dismayed to see the reception full of people.

"I need to see Doc Martin right now!" In her panic, she couldn't remember his surname.

"What's your name, love?" asked the woman at the desk.

"Louisa Glasson, but I'm not registered here. It's an emergency. The doc is a friend of mine, well a friend of my brother's."

"It's all right Mrs. Peters, " a familiar voice said. "Send Miss Glasson in."

In the office, Louisa held out James Henry's hand. The finger was definitely turning blue. The doctor took a close look, quickly produced a pair of fine blade scissors, and his large hands delicately snipped the nearly invisible hair free without a scratch. The tiny finger slowly began to regain its proper colour. "All better now, young man," he said. "Your future career as a concert pianist is saved."

Louisa apologized for her panicky behaviour. "No need for that Miss Glasson. It's good you came in right away. It, uh, is _Miss_ Glasson, isn't it? Well, of course it is, you have the same name as your brother."

"Call me Louisa," she said.

"And I'm just Martin, no need for the 'Doc,'" he replied. "Have a sweetie," he offered her a canister of lollipops and other assorted treats. "They're for the patients but mothers of patients qualify too." Louisa accepted a raspberry jelly baby.

"I was just going out for some lunch. Would you like to join me? Don't mind them," he pointed to the crowded reception. "Not one of them here with a genuine medical complaint at the moment. They like to stop in for a cuppa, a biscuit, and the latest gossip. They won't even miss me for an hour."

He didn't seem bothered by this at all, Louisa marvelled. She moved the pushchair toward the door as Martin carried little James Henry. The baby smiled at him and blurted out "Da Da," to everyone's amusement.

"What a little angel," remarked the receptionist cheerfully.

"He's your spittin' image, Doc," said a white-haired woman. "Is there something you're not telling us?"

"Here we thought you was Port Liac's most eligible bachelor," a portly man wearing a wool cap chimed in. Everyone laughed, including Martin.

He led her down to the Golden Lion. They ordered sandwiches from a barmaid with heavy eye shadow and pink tints in her bleached hair, who looked like she was only a few years removed from being part of the local equivalent of Portwenn's teenage girl gang. The young woman, whom Martin addressed as Fiona, brought their food to them where they sat outside.

"So is it true? Are you Port Liac's most eligible bachelor?" Louisa teased him.

"I don't know how eligible I am, but I'm not exactly a bachelor," he replied. "Divorced six months now. After 10 years of marriage, I still haven't quite adjusted. Oh don't be sorry," he said, as she offered her condolences. "It's for the best. I loved Petronella and I suppose she loved me, in her fashion, but she also loved at least three of my friends as well. So now it's over. It got me out of the London rat race anyway. I chucked a lucrative practice as a Harley Street obstetrician, came down here to…well, find myself I suppose."

"Why Port Liac?"

"When I was a boy, my mum would send me here to stay with my grandfather for summer holidays. Made a big impression on me."

Louisa couldn't help laughing. "Sorry, you just remind me so much of someone… special, he's a doctor too, even though really you're nothing like him. I can't explain it any better."

"Is this someone the father of this young man here?"

Louisa nodded.

"So how come you're not married to this special someone, if you don't mind my asking?" He was so charming, Louisa didn't mind at all.

"Oh it's complicated. He asked me to marry him again recently, but… it's just that we were going to get married before, and we ended up calling it off at the last minute, and we argue so much, I suppose I worry that we don't have what it takes to stay together for the long haul. Just yesterday we rowed over whether to try for another baby. He doesn't want to. I suppose since you're an only child you wouldn't see the point of it either."

"Actually I always wanted to have a brother or sister when I was a kid. Not that I had any say in the matter. And then Petronella didn't want children. I always hoped she'd change her mind but it didn't happen. In the end it simplified things when I decided to go for the divorce."

He looked so sad for a moment, then seemed to perk up, adding "but it's a whole new life out here. I just bought a farm. Needs all sorts of work to make it habitable, the former owner let his pigs have the run of the house it seems. For now I live at the surgery but I need a place to escape to after hours. God knows I love this village but it seems everybody knows everything about everybody here. Bloody fishbowl. I need to preserve my air of mystery."

"I know just what you mean," Louisa laughed. "So now you're involved with my brother's treasure hunt. Do you really think there's anything to it?"

"Well, I was sceptical at first, but Tom let me snip off one corner of the map and send it to a university chap I know in London. He did radiocarbon dating on it. It's authentic vellum from the late 16th Century and the ink is right for that time period too. We're having loads of fun getting ready for the actual treasure hunt. I learned how to scuba dive, got certified and everything. You ever scuba?"

"Tom and me got certified when we were teenagers but I haven't done it for ages. I used to love to do it."

"You know, I'm in charge of renting the dive equipment, that's part of my contribution to the enterprise. I could get an extra set of gear for you, if you wanted to join us. Be like riding a bike, you never forget."

It sounded very tempting. "I can't do something like that," she said. "I've got a baby to think about."

"I'll get Mrs. Peters to watch him for an afternoon. She's mad for babies, had four of her own. Come on, how often do you get to do something as daft as this when you're at home with Dr. Special Someone?"

She laughed. "OK, I'll do it."

He really needed to get back to work at this point. They agreed to meet up again at 5:30, in time for the rechristening.

_To be continued…_

Port Liac is what the village was called in "Saving Grace," the first movie to feature Martin Bamford. In the two TV movies, "Doc Martin" and "Doc Martin and the Legend of the Cloutie," it was called Port Isaac. I used the fictional name because my story isn't meant as a realistic depiction of the actual Port Isaac, although presumably the TV movies weren't either. My story does assume the reader is familiar with the three Martin Bamford movies, but I don't think it's necessary to have seen them to follow the characters and plot.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Rechristening.

Monday Afternoon.

Down at the slipway, the boat, freshly painted in white and copper green, was propped up in dry-dock. Tom and Harvey stood beside it, engaged in heated debate.

"We can't agree on a new name," Harvey said, as Louisa and Martin approached, with James in his pushchair. "She used to be the _Charlotte Jones_ but I had an old girlfriend by that name, left me for a customs agent, so that's out. I suggested the _Green Mermaid_ but Tom thinks that's a breach of the top secret classification of our project."

Arms crossed, Tom nodded emphatically.

Harvey went on. "He just wants to keep calling it the _Dream Boat_, but that was just a joke. I can't have a fishing boat with a crap name like that. So then I thought of calling it after my Dad's old boat."

"Right, the _Cold Turkey_ _2_. Talk about a crap name," said Tom. "Your old Dad quit smoking 30 years ago, no need to remind everybody about his old vices."

"At least he gave up his vices, not like some I could name. And it is my boat," Harvey retorted. "What about naming it after my great-uncle, without whose generosity we would not be having this discussion?"

"What, the _Branwalather Trengrouse_? Now you're just taking the piss, innit."

"What about a compromise?" Martin intervened. "You could call it after a real life 'dream boat,' with a more… mellifluous name. The _Louisa_." He glanced at her to see her reaction.

Louisa could feel her face getting flushed. Her skin was naturally pale and she coloured easily. "Oh no, I wouldn't want…" she trailed off.

Tom seemed pleased. "Not really a compromise for me, but I guess that's a bit of all right," Harvey grumbled. He handed her a bottle of champagne wrapped in a cloth bag. "The lovely Louisa shall do the honours, as soon as Lolita gets here for the preliminaries."

A small scruffy white dog with brown spots came running down to the slipway and began barking at Martin. Louisa thought it looked like a Jack Russell terrier, very much like the one that was so attached to her Martin back in Portwenn. "Who's that?" she inquired. "Oh that's Merlin," said Harvey. "He brings us luck."

"Don't you like dogs?" said Louisa, much amused to see Martin uncharacteristically scowling. He looked more like Martin Ellingham than ever at that moment.

"I'm allergic, so a dog coming with us is hardly lucky for me. I thought we agreed no more dog on board," he snapped to Harvey. "It's a silly superstition anyway."

As Harvey shooed Merlin to go back home, a middle aged woman with a tangle of grey-streaked auburn curls, wearing a midnight blue velvet dress and several necklaces with druidic charms, hurried up, all apologies for being late. "Sorry, I had to consult with Mr. Magnus, my spiritual guide, about the proper way to go about this. Renaming a boat can be very bad luck if you don't know what you're doing."

"Lolita is our resident expert on all things, um, spiritual," Martin confided wryly to Louisa. "Well this is Cornwall, isn't it," she replied, smiling.

The woman stood on a crate, aided by an African man in white and red robes, whom Martin said was her husband. A sparse crowd of fishermen and tourists began to gather. Louisa held James up so he could see. "Have the former name and all written record of that name been removed from the vessel?" she asked.

"They have," Tom and Harvey replied in unison.

"We will need a piece of silver as a gift to Neptune, god of the sea, or as we know him here in Cornwall - Llyr," she said.

Tom dug into his pocket and held up a shiny object. "I've got an Australian silver dollar a bloke gave me back on Santorini. It's got a kangaroo on it, does that matter?"

"Llyr doesn't discriminate against marsupials," Lolita assured him. "The former name needs to be written on the silver." Tom handed the coin to Harvey, who wrote on it with a black marker. Lolita took it and held it high over her head.

"Mighty Neptu… er, Llyr. Remove this name and grant this vessel your favour as she sails your majestic waves." She tossed the silver coin as far as she could and it disappeared into the dark water of the harbour. "Now offer Llyr give a drink of good rum and let us share a ration. Pour it from east to west."

Tom opened a bottle and spilled some into the water as instructed. He took a swig, handed the bottle to Harvey and then Lolita, who each took their own swig.

"Now repeat after me," she said to Harvey. "Henceforth, this vessel shall be known as… and then ask that she be recorded as such in Llyr's book of records."

"Henceforth, this vessel shall be known as… the _Louisa_," he proclaimed. "I ask that she be recorded as such in Llyr's big book of records. Is Llyr going to issue me a Maritime and Coast Guard Agency license?" he asked, to the merriment of the crowd. "Sorry, ma'am," he added, on seeing Lolita's disapproving look.

"Now the owner shall give Llyr the rest of the rum, east to west, and we're finished," she said. Harvey did so, and the crowd applauded. "On to the more traditional festivities," he shouted.

Louisa handed James to Martin and picked up the champagne bottle. She got up on a stepladder beside the boat. "I name this ship…"

"Boat!" Tom and Harvey stage whispered together.

"…this _boat_ the _Louisa_," she said, swinging the bottle against the bow. It failed to crack. She swung it a second time without success. Harvey handed her a hammer and she held the bottle against the bow and smashed it, the bag containing the glass but allowing the champagne to foam out. "May God bless her and all who sail in her!"

"Hurrah!" the crowd cheered. "Hurrah!" echoed James Henry, to everyone's laughter. "You got anymore of that good rum?" one of the fishermen shouted.

"Everyone is welcome to join in the celebration at the Lion, as soon as we get the new name painted on the bow," Harvey announced.

"We're going for a sunset sail for the maiden voyage later," Martin said to Louisa, as the crowd dispersed. "Care to join us?"

She very much wanted to but reluctantly had to beg off. "It's best not to take the baby on board. I'll go the pub for a bit but then I need to get him home for his dinner and bedtime."

"You will join us for the diving tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

_To be continued…_

Your comments/reviews greatly appreciated.

Taking the piss: A colourful phrase, likely unknown to many North American readers, meaning to make fun of someone. Pauline says it to tease the Doc about Maureen Tacy's urine sample in S2E6 "The Family Way."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Omissions.

Tuesday Morning.

"Say 'Da Da, hi Da Da,' come on say it," Louisa coaxed James Henry to speak into the mobile. "Sorry Martin, he's been quite chatty lately but he doesn't seem in the mood at the moment."

"Has he been eating well and sleeping through the night?" Martin asked anxiously. "It's a big disruption for him being away from home for so long."

"He's fine, he's really enjoying seeing his Uncle Tommy. We're having a great time… not that we don't, uh, both miss you very much."

Louisa decided not to mention the baby's little mishap with the hair wrapped around his finger, as she didn't want Martin to worry or fuss any more than he was already doing. She also neglected to mention her plans to go scuba diving that day. She was well aware of the risks the sport involved and didn't need him reciting a list of potential injuries. Still, she felt a touch guilty about the omissions.

However, what was occupying her mind most after she rang off with Martin was how late Tom had been out the night before. It seemed he had come in too drunk to even make it up the stairs. He was snoring gently, passed out on the settee, half sitting up, still completely dressed. The scene reminded her all too well of how she used to come downstairs to find their father in the same pose, leaving her make her own breakfast and get herself off to school.

Now as she rattled the cabinets to get breakfast started this morning, Tom roused himself and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry Lou Lou, bit of a late night, got involved in some business at the pub. Got to get myself revved up, get going with the tide. Today's D-Day - that's Dive Day," he explained to her quizzical look. "There's a lot riding on this."

Louisa set James on the floor so he could grab the edge of the coffee table and practice pulling himself up. "Look at that little tyke," Tom mused. "He's got our Dad's nose."

Startled, Louisa looked at the baby and had to admit he did sort of resemble Terry Glasson. It must be the angle, she thought, since she always saw James Henry, with his fair hair and big pale blue-grey eyes, as a virtual clone of Martin. She couldn't help be pleased that some of her family could be seen in her beloved child even if she would have preferred it was more her and less her unreliable father.

Having successfully pulled himself up, James grabbed the racing form Tom had left on the table and enthusiastically waved it around. "Look at that, he goes right for the horses. Yeah, he takes after Dad all right," Tom chuckled.

Oh dear, a dismayed Louisa thought. It was one more thing she wouldn't be mentioning to Martin.

* * *

><p>At the Port Liac surgery, Martin Bamford was just about ready as Louisa arrived with James Henry. He had arranged to take the day off and pay Mrs. Peters a bonus for minding the baby while she caught up with her paperwork for the surgery practice.<p>

"I'd do it for free, he's such a cherub," she assured Louisa. "But I can always use the extra cash."

Louisa gave her the written instructions for the baby's care. "His father doesn't like him to have a dummy but I slip him one now and again if he gets cranky. Everything you need is in the bag and I'll put his bottle in the fridge," she said.

"I do hope he behaves for you," she added. "He used to be very shy with new people but he's gotten better recently. Now that he's pulling himself up and taking a few steps he's apt to get into all sorts of things, so just watch for that. I included my mobile number, don't know if we'll have much of a signal when we're out beyond the harbour."

"Don't worry, mobile service used to be crap around here but it's improved since they put the new tower in. " Martin assured Louisa. "And it's always been surprisingly strong out on the water. But we won't be out more than a few hours."

_To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Deep Green

Tuesday Midday and Evening.

Louisa and Martin walked down to the harbour together. Tom and Harvey were sorting through the dive equipment on the boat deck. The men went below to change into their wet suits and Louisa went to use the ladies' toilet at the Golden Lion. When she emerged in the formfitting suit she ignored a few wolf whistles from the men hanging out at the slipway, and clambered aboard the _Louisa_.

Tom and Harvey were below readying things for getting underway so it was just her and Martin out on deck, trying not to be too obvious about eyeing each other. Louisa felt a flutter in her chest at the sight of that strangely familiar physique in the black neoprene suit, nicely outlining his large, strongly built frame. She smiled to think of that time, back when she and her Martin were still awkwardly getting to know one another in Portwenn, when she remarked about seeing him out of his ever-present suit and in a wetsuit.

"So where are you lot off to?" a fisherman shouted from the dock, as Tom and Harvey came on deck. Louisa recognized him from the rechristening ceremony. "Funny you being off from fishing so long to fix up your boat and then going off to dive instead of work the first day," the man said.

"Yeah, you and the doc taking up pearl diving then?" said another man.

"Never you mind. Can't I have a bit of fun with my friends before getting back to the daily grind?" Harvey retorted.

"So where are we headed?" Louisa asked, as the boat motored out of the harbour.

Harvey and Tom spread out a modern map and showed their route. "Near as we can figure," Harvey said, "we head out round Polzeath Point, past this bit here, that's Doyden Rock, then out beyond St. Keyne's Rock is the likely spot. It's still well within the Celtic Sea, away from where the continental shelf drops off into the Atlantic proper, so lucky for us it's no more than 20 meters deep there, about 60 feet."

"And we think that's where the _Esmeralda_ went down," Tom chimed in.

"If that's the spot, then the remains of the wreck likely got shifted slightly to the southeast by prevailing currents, so that's where we'll look," Harvey said. "We don't want to just look for a worm-eaten hull, odds are the wooden timbers will have broken down so much over the centuries there won't be much remaining. We've each got a metal detector, so look for rusted iron cannons that would indicate where a ship went down or the hinges of a chest that might have held coins, that sort of thing."

"And just be aware of anything black or shiny," Tom added. "Black means tarnished silver, shiny means gold. That never tarnishes."

Louisa and Martin glanced at each other, both clearly excited at the prospect of an adventure.

They reached the designated spot, weighed anchor, and got their breathing gear ready. As agreed, the three men dove first, leaving Louisa to man the boat. She waited eagerly for them to return after the designated 45 minutes. Louisa was not as familiar with boats as Tom was, but she had spent a bit of time aboard them with friends when she was younger and was never bothered by seasickness. She passed the time checking her mobile for messages from Mrs. Peters, reading a magazine she had brought, and mostly just watching the sea birds and fine wisps of cirrus clouds.

She couldn't help thinking about the two Martins. Her Martin, the one who was waiting for her back home in Portwenn, would be so disapproving of this project. This other Martin, in contrast, embraced it as a new experience. The one kept his feet squarely on dry land and the other maybe had his head in the clouds. Was that such a bad thing to let one's mind wander among life's possibilities? For herself, it might just be possible she could have a Martin that she was both physically and emotionally attracted to, but who was free of the barriers Martin Ellingham put up to the world and, too often, to her as well. She felt guilty entertaining such thoughts but she couldn't dismiss them either.

It was a relief when the men finally surfaced for a break and to don fresh air tanks. Then it was Tom's turn to stay on board and hers to plunge into the deep.

Louisa dropped into dark water, leaving the guilty thoughts behind. She drifted down, down, like she had jumped into the Portwenn Aquarium, but there were no glass walls, no boundaries at all, just fish - speckled, thick-lipped wrasse; sleek, fork-tailed mackerel; long, pointed sand eels; dark-spotted, top spined John Dories; silvery whiting and silver-lined pollock - many types of fish she knew from the aquarium and the fish market, but here she was in their realm and they were coming face to face with her as if to inquire why she had come to visit.

She reached the sandy, rocky bottom and swam off in the direction she had been assigned to investigate, as near as she could tell. The bottom sloped downward slightly and she moved along it to find herself among a small city of natural reefs and pinnacles, adorned with fantastic shapes of jewel anemones in ruby and sapphire shades and fan-like branches of hydrozoa, the bottom inhabited by flat bodied dab fish, spiney gurnards, and dozing dogfish sharks. Everywhere was alive, a sunken world where dim sunlight shafted down and was not blue as she expected but a deep, supernatural midnight green, and she could well believe she might meet an emerald-hued mermaid dwelling here.

She searched the bottom, moving her waterproof torch and metal detector about, always looking out for rusted iron and especially, as Tom had said, anything "black or shiny" but there was nothing that did not belong to the living ocean wherever she roamed. She moved toward the anchor line and followed it upward, pausing halfway to decompress. Dark shapes approached, for a moment she thought they were her dive companions but they were huge, at least twice as long as she was, and there were four of them, moving closer with gaping cavernous mouths. She knew they were basking sharks, alarming to see but harmless. Their little group parted and passed on either side of her in the green darkness, intent on their mission to filter the water of any plankton or little fish they could find.

When she surfaced the water and the sky above were pale blue and grey. She rested a while aboard the boat, then took a fresh tank and went back. By the end of the afternoon, she and her three companions had come up empty, so they headed back, exhausted but talking a mile a minute about everything they had seen.

Louisa picked up James Henry from Mrs. Peters, who assured her he had been a perfect angel, and returned to Chough Cottage. Tom told her he was heading for the pub and would be home in good time. She sat up for a while with the TV on but only half watching, till she got tired of waiting.

Upstairs, lying in bed she could feel the motion of the waves again, until she was gliding through the green translucency, dark hair streaming behind her, and she dropped the torch and metal detector, pulled off her mask and mouthpiece and slipped the air cylinder off her back, breathing easily in the water, her wetsuit turned to scales, her legs were a fish tail, and the sunken world plied by blunt-nosed fish was her familiar place, her home, and she swam up to the surface, and looked into the face of a pale blue-grey-eyed prince who peered over the side of a boat, low to the water. Her cool lips reached toward his warm, full ones and they met in a kiss.

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: D-Day 2

Wednesday.

"Has he been sleeping through the night? You know how he hates any changes to his routine," Martin said.

"He's fine, he's coping great," Louisa assured him.

She thought Martin sounded disappointed that James Henry didn't miss home as much as he had hoped. "He's talking more than ever and making progress with his walking," she said.

"Well you'll definitely be back Saturday? I, er, don't want to miss it, if he is going to be reaching any more milestones soon, that is." She assured him that they would be.

Once again Tom was sleeping on the settee, not exactly smelling like a fresh daisy, Louisa noticed. After she finished with Martin, she gave the baby his breakfast, put the kettle on and slammed a bottle of paracetamol and a glass of water on the coffee table. Tom sat up and groaned.

"Tommy, what have you been up to? You know we have another dive today. You can't keep staying out all night."

"For your information Lou, I've been out trying to scare up a pot of gold. Harvey's cash is just about used up and we could use a contingency fund, in case of, you know… contingencies."

"Is it the horses?"

"Poker, in the back room at the Lion. I've got the magic touch. The cards love me… or they did. And they will again!"

"You're just like Dad," she said in disgust.

"Right, well I could do worse than take after Terry Glasson, no matter what those inbred morons say about him in Portwenn."

Louisa shook her head. "You know he's in prison now. He brought it all on himself, and I told you how he put me and my friends in danger too. I know he didn't mean to do it, but that's how he always is, trouble just follows him around. You've got a good thing here, Tom, I feel sure we're close to finding the _Esmeralda_."

She was clearly upset and Tom took her hand. "It's okay Louisa, you know I never get into the real hard-core trouble like that."

He swallowed a couple of pills and got up. "It's D-Day 2. I'll be up to speed soon enough and we'll head out and conquer the undersea world like Jacques Cousteau."

After breakfast, Louisa took James Henry for a walk to the Port Liac Surgery. The baby had a big smile and held out his arms when he saw Mrs. Peters, so Louisa felt good about leaving him with her again.

The little crew of the _Louisa_ cast off, this time for a different sector slightly south of what where they had been the day before. Here the bottom was a blue world, more barren, mostly sand, rocks, and an unbroken flat scallop shell Louisa brought up as a gift for James Henry. Nothing "black or shiny." Harvey's metal detector pinged on some rusty iron but he determined it was merely assorted modern junk.

The day started out fine but as the afternoon wore on, dark grey clouds rolled onto the Atlantic horizon. Harvey, who was keeping watch on board by then, informed Louisa and Martin as they surfaced from their dives that they needed to cut the day short and head in as soon as possible. They watched the water anxiously for Tom, who had not yet appeared.

Seconds ticked by, the storm clouds grew larger, and still no sign of him. "He should have been up 10 minutes ago," Harvey fretted. "I'm going in after him." He began to strap on an air cylinder when Louisa spotted her brother coming up from the depths. Tom slowly swam to the boarding ladder but just clung to it, making no effort to climb up. Alarmed, Harvey kicked off his boat shoes and jumped into the cold ocean to help his friend onto the ladder and up to the boat. Tom collapsed onto the deck groaning and rubbing his right calf.

"Got a cramp Doc, slowed me down coming up," he said.

Martin crouched and examined the leg. "It'll pass soon enough. Massage the muscles and try gently stretching it. Louisa, can you get him a bottle of water?"

"How about a cold beer instead Lou Lou, and a couple of paracetamol too. I'm parched and I got a raging headache," Tom said.

"No beer. Water!" Martin barked. "You're dehydrated, that's what's causing the headache, cramps, and fatigue. Muscles don't work efficiently when the body is dehydrated, it puts stress on your heart, and puts you at risk for decompression sickness. Divers lose fluid through sweat and urination and especially from breathing dry compressed air. You know you should drink plenty of water, and avoid caffeinated drinks and alcohol the night before a dive."

"Of course Doc," Tom insisted, getting to his feet and hobbling around to stretch his leg. "However, my system may have reacted unfavourably to some lemonade I imbibed last night."

"You daft hungover git," retorted Harvey. "Stop whinging and get all the dive gear stowed. We have to get back home ahead of the storm." He cranked the engine and for a moment it just sputtered uncooperatively. A few choice words from Harvey and then it roared to life.

The sky grew leaden grey over the village and the wind began to pick up by the time they anchored in the harbour. Tom went off with Harvey, who said he had some of the vitamin tablets that Martin recommended for dehydration. Louisa went to the surgery to get James Henry. Martin offered to come up with supper for the three of them as Mrs. Peters hurried off home under her umbrella. The rain began pouring down and there was a bright flash. Louisa jumped as the crack of thunder followed close on and she picked up James to soothe him. The summer evening became increasingly gloomy. Martin flipped a light switch but the room stayed dark. "So the electric cooker is no good then," he groaned.

"Have you got a Plan B for supper?" Louisa asked. "You could come over to Tom's place with us. He's been out every night this week and we could use the company."

"Tom ought to rest up tonight after his little mishap today."

"What he ought to do and what he will do are usually miles apart. It's a family trait," she sighed. "It's not easy being what passes for the sensible one of our bunch sometimes."

Martin smiled. "Well, I've got a shepherd's pie in the fridge, nothing fancy but it'll do. It'll only go bad if the power stays off. We could heat it up at your place, maybe open a bottle of wine, ride out the storm." He raised one inquisitive blond eyebrow and she laughed and touched his arm. He was just adorable, she thought.

"Let me just get a few things together. I should drive you home anyway, it's chucking it down out there," he said.

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Martin by Candlelight

Wednesday Evening.

At Chough Cottage, Louisa turned on the cooker to preheat it and got James Henry's bottle ready. Martin uncorked some red wine and poured two glasses. He popped the shepherd's pie in the oven, found a CD player, flipped through Tom's small stack of CDs and started up some Greek mandolin music for some soft background. Louisa fed James Henry and took him upstairs for his bedtime ritual. By the time she started back down the stairs with the baby monitor, she could smell something both sweet and acrid.

"I hope you're not bothered," Martin said, offering her a hit. "I'm trying to give up cigarettes but Tom and I sometimes light up a spliff so I know he wouldn't mind me enjoying one in his house. I suppose Dr. Special Someone wouldn't approve."

"Oh, I haven't had that since university, but James Henry is settled for the night, his door is closed, so I suppose there's no harm in it after a disappointing day," she said. "You're a bad influence about drinking and diving though."

He laughed. "I don't overindulge and I make sure to stay hydrated. Moderate wine intake has certain health benefits."

Louisa sat beside him on the settee and took up her glass with a smile. They smoked the joint down in between sips and chatted as the storm progressed outside.

"Did you always want to be a doctor?"

"Not always, didn't know what I wanted when I was a kid. My old Dad pushed me toward it when I got into my teens and I found I had a real knack for it."

"Are you and your Dad close then?"

"Nah, hardly ever saw him when I was growing up. My mum and he were, uh, separated. I gather Glasson family life wasn't exactly idyllic?"

Louisa sighed. "No, not exactly. I think that's why Tom and I were so into folktales and legends when we were kids. It was escapism for us. My favourite Cornish hero was always Tristan, prince of Lyonesse, and his tragic affair with the Irish princess Iseult. Young girls like to dream of handsome princes and star-crossed lovers but I reckon Tristan and Iseult never bickered about what colour to paint the living room or whether to have fish for dinner again."

There was an extra bright flash, a loud crack of thunder, and the lights and music went out just then.

"Oh bugger!" Martin brought out his mobile for an emergency light and Louisa went into the kitchen cabinet where she knew Tom kept some candles and a torch. They set the candles on the table and along the counter. Fortunately the shepherd's pie was about heated through by then, so they served it up by candlelight. It made for quite a pleasing scene, she thought, with only the rain for soundtrack.

"So anyway, our mum took off when I was 11. Tom was 13," she said, as they settled in at the table. "She came back to help me out with the baby a few months ago, but really she caused more problems than she helped with, and she wasn't even there for me anyway, she just wanted to find a seafood supplier in Cornwall for her restaurant in Spain."

Louisa giggled. "I don't know why it seems so funny now, but for a while it was like me and, uh, Dr. Special Someone," she giggled some more, "the only thing we could agree on was that Mum was a problem."

"And I suppose you heard about our Dad getting into trouble a few years back. He was never an upstanding citizen but he's doing time now for smuggling explosives and conspiracy to commit burglary." She grew almost serious. "So Dr. Special Someone is really convinced my family is just trouble and he's not happy about my being here visiting Tom, and… uh, Tom's friends… So, do you have a Special Someone yourself?"

"There was this girl, Rita, she worked behind the bar at the Lion, used to sing with a band there too. She's a mate of Lolita's, they're into all that Druid tosh, but she's quite a lovely person. We were just friends really, she's married and got a son but separated from her husband when we met. Harvey tells me the husband's a demolitions expert with a short fuse. She decided to try one last reconciliation with him for their boy's sake, moved up north where he's working."

"So here I am," Martin declared. "Port Liac's most eligible divorcee!"

They finished up dinner, set the dishes in the sink, and returned to the settee, with more wine, and now sitting quite close. Seeing Martin by candlelight, she was struck by how he was not a conventionally handsome man. Sometimes he looked quite comic with his exaggerated ears and mouth; but from certain angles, sometimes, just sometimes, with the right light falling on his pale hair and skin and accentuating the sensuality of his features, he was simply beautiful to look at. Just like her own Martin.

"Well I know about difficult family," he was saying. "We have that in common." He grew quiet, then leaned in close and touched her hair, which was loose on her shoulders, and murmured "oh radiance rare and fathomless…*"

He leaned in closer and she moved toward him and as their lips were about to meet there was a loud knock on the door. They jumped back with a guilty start. Louisa got up to answer it, as Martin followed with torch in hand close behind.

It was a man, not tall but broad-shouldered, as if he spent lots of time in the gym. His dirty blond hair was cut short, showing puffy looking ears. Cauliflower ears, Louisa thought. She remembered that look from the small time boxers her dad used to bet on, when he would take her with him to watch the fights in Plymouth. This man looked familiar, like she had seen him hanging about on the slipway watching them prepare their diving gear.

He had an umbrella in one hand, a torch in the other, and a soggy cigar stub clenched in his teeth. "Where's Tom Glasson?" he demanded.

"He's not at home, I don't know where he is," Louisa said. "Who are you?"

"Never you mind who I am," he snarled.

"Hullo Eddie," said Martin, peering over her shoulder. "What brings you out on a night like this?"

Eddie grumbled at being recognized. "Tell Tom he needs to pay up, he can't duck out on this any longer. He owes us three grand now. We know he's got a big payout coming any day now from some old map."

Martin moved to confront the man, towering over him. "What? Did he tell you about that?"

"Never you mind. You can just tell him he's got to come up with the money by Saturday or he'll regret it."

Glowering up at Martin, he snarled, spat out the cigar stub, and left.

"I knew it!" Louisa exclaimed. "I told Tom he was going to get himself into trouble with the gambling, just like Dad. And I can't believe he told some tosser he lost to at cards about the map, after he kept on at me about how it was top secret."

Martin sat down, visibly annoyed. "He was just telling me today he and Harvey are out of money, even to buy diesel for the boat, trying to hit me up for more cash. I guess he's just sinking too much of his money into covering his bad luck at cards."

He turned toward her. "Good thing I'm here. Eddie Prescott can be a tough customer, and his twin brother Emrys is even worse. Former boxers, not very successful at it so who knows what they're up to now. Matching pair of troglodytes, the both of them, the only sure way to tell them apart is Emrys has been sporting a droopy eye lately, no doubt from some fight he lost, which hasn't improved his mood at all."

"Who knows if Eddie might have gotten rough with you, and you with a baby to watch out for upstairs," he added.

"I can take care of myself," she retorted, but she felt less than sure of herself. "No, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, it _is_ good you're here. You're good company, lights on or off."

There was an awkward silence, broken by the lights suddenly blazing on and the mandolin music starting up again. Louisa got up to blow out the candles. The mood of the evening was definitely broken.

Then the door opened and Tom came in, thoroughly soaked. "Sodding miserable night," he said.

"Right then, I should be off," said Martin. "I expect you've got some words for your brother." Turning to Tom, "I'll want to have some words with you and Harvey myself tomorrow."

_To be continued…_

* Martin B. is paraphrasing a line from Thomas Hardy's poem "When I Set Out For Lyonesse."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Talk of the Town

Thursday

"Martin, I need to tell you something," Louisa began her morning phone call. "My brother and his friends have been hunting for a Spanish Armada shipwreck using an old map and they've gotten me to join in. It's been great fun so far, but now they're asking me to invest a bit of money to keep the operation going. We expect there will be a big pay off if we actually find something, possibly gold or silver, and loads of valuable historical items too."

She talked it all out quickly, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the investment part, but he zeroed right in on it.

"Slow down, Louisa. Am I to understand your ne'er-do-well, responsibility-shirking brother wants you to sink money in some get-rich-quick scheme? Is that what you're saying?"

"It's not a get-rich-quick scheme, it's a historical expedition."

"Based on what? Some treasure map he bought off a man down the pub? Did this man throw a handful of magic beans into the bargain? Louisa, there is no historical reason to believe any ship from the Spanish Armada went down anywhere close to Cornwall, and even if it did why would a warship be carrying any quantity of gold or silver?

"It was a secret plan to bribe the Irish into rebellion. Look Martin, Tom's friend had the map tested at a university lab, it's authentic 16th Century parchment and ink."

"The parchment may date to the correct period, but that's no guarantee of authenticity," he said. "A parchment can be washed clean of original markings and a clever forger can write or draw new things on it, using ink or pigment mixed from period ingredients. It's very common for people to be taken in. Penhale's brother was forging 19th Century paintings by mixing up authentic-seeming paint."

By now Louisa felt like an idiot. She just sighed.

"How much money are they trying to get off you?"

"Um, maybe up to… £3,000. Some of it may actually be to help my brother with some… minor… gambling debts." Even over the phone she could tell he was furious.

"Louisa, do I need to remind you that your trust in your father's honesty was misplaced? He came here assuring you that past accusations against him were unfounded, and he was not only lying to you, his mentally unstable accomplice could have killed us. Maybe you should ask yourself if your brother is worth the trust you blindly place in him."

"Well, it's my money Martin," she retorted. "If I want to help Tom, I have a right to do so."

Now it was Martin's turn to be silent for a moment. "Louisa, just promise me you won't give your brother anything before you come back and we can discuss it some more. You and James Henry are still coming home Saturday?"

She assured him that they were, although at the moment she didn't feel very pleased about the prospect.

Louisa rang off and went inside. There was a note on the kitchen table. "Sorry, didn't mean to cause you grief," it said. Tom must have overheard her arguing with Martin, though she purposely made the call from the back terrace for some privacy.

"Got lots of business to see to today, Harvey and I need to work on the engine," the note continued. "We're meeting at the Lion tonight 6-ish to sort things out, if you care to join us. T."

Feeling low, she finished up breakfast with James Henry, then she scattered his toys on a blanket on the living room floor and let him explore while she lay on the settee and watched some mindless telly. Around lunch time, she felt a bit more ambitious so she took James Henry to the library where they were having a play group for toddlers. It felt good to hang out with other mums and talk about teething, movies, politics, the royal baby, anything but irresponsible brothers and scolding partners.

The talk turned to the beautiful weather forecast for the rest of the week. "It's fine sailing weather," said a woman with a little ginger-haired girl. "My brother'll be out on the water in his boat. He rented some scuba gear to go look for a Spanish wreck out by St. Keyne's Rock. There's a rumour going about that it's full of gold, if it's out there."

"How did he hear about that?" asked Louisa, startled but trying to sound casual.

"A man down the pub," the woman replied.

"All of a sudden, it's the talk of Port Liac," agreed another mum. "There'll likely be a dozen boats out there searching this afternoon, more if the tourists get wind of it, but it's a needle in a haystack, if you ask me."

That didn't improve Louisa's mood. After the play group, she went around visiting the shops in town while James Henry napped in his pushchair. At 6 p.m., they headed over to the Golden Lion, where Tom, Harvey, and Martin had a table in a back corner. She was at least relieved to see the pub was mostly empty, except for Fiona who was engaged in feeding grapes to the parrot that lived there.

"So what was all that about keeping the map top secret then?" Louisa hissed, trying to keep her voice low. "It's the talk of the town now."

"Yeah, we know all about it. We can thank your brother for that," said Harvey, obviously none too pleased with the situation himself.

"Listen Louisa, I know I may have talked a bit much, but I was just trying to get some more money to fund the project, and I ran into a bit of bad luck," Tom replied. "I may have let on more than I should have about the map but nobody else has seen it. It's in a secure location, ain't that right Doc?"

Martin nodded. "I've got it hidden at the surgery."

"And nobody could possibly connect you with Tom, is that it?" Louisa took on a sarcastic tone. "Everybody has seen you in scuba gear with us on the boat. And that Eddie person saw you with me at Tom's house last night. What's to stop someone from breaking into your place to search for it?"

"It's all under control," Tom insisted. "And you don't need to worry about me hitting you up for money, that's also thanks to the Doc."

"Yeah, I've got the cash for Tom and Harvey to fuel up the boat tomorrow," Martin said. "I also rang up someone in London who's very interested in investing in the project to keep it going, even if that includes paying off your brother's debt to keep him from harm. He's coming out to Port Liac Saturday, the investor I mean."

"But what if someone else actually finds the wreck in the meantime?" Louisa asked.

"Well, that's where things really get interesting," Harvey said in a conspiratorial voice. They all drew closer to hear better, even James on Louisa's lap seemed interested. "Tom and I have been rethinking the situation. The way the coastline is shown on the map, whoever drew it wasn't real familiar with the area and some geographic features may have changed over the centuries. We've been doing some more research. Bottom line is it may not actually be the vicinity of Port Liac at all. Now this really is top secret, absolutely no one else can know about this, but we think it may in fact show a location further down the coast... right off Portwenn."

_To be continued…_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Martin By Daylight

Friday

"Well Martin, you'll be happy to hear that I'm off the hook for Tom's gambling debts. Apparently a friend of a friend of his is stepping up to invest in the project."

"Louisa, I'm glad to hear you've come to your senses. Tom may be family but his problems are not your responsibility. So what time can I expect you and James Henry home tomorrow?"

"I don't know. I planned to have a leisurely day with James today and then take a little time to say goodbye to some people here Saturday. I suppose we'll be back in time for dinner."

"Right. Good."

He sounded pleased. Louisa wished she felt as pleased. After the call, she had breakfast with James Henry, Tom having gone off early with Harvey to work on tuning up the engine and getting the boat fuelled up.

She got the baby settled in his pushchair. "You and I are going to have a proper holiday together, just the two of us. I had hoped you could spend more time getting to know your uncle but I guess we have to take what we can get."

Their first stop was the hilltop playground where she sat on a swing holding him on her lap, gently moving to and fro as they watched a few older children run noisily about, to James's delight. She longed to bundle him into his baby carrier, as she used to do when he was smaller, so they could enjoy the cliff walk together but he was big for his age and she didn't fancy much of a walk while carrying him.

Instead they went to the village aquarium, where James Henry marvelled at the spiny blue lobsters, the brown crabs looking like scuttling pie crusts, and the mackerel swimming in formation behind the glass. She loved how everything in the world was a revelation to him, allowing her to see things with fresh eyes. The school of sleek silvery fish moving in graceful harmony brought her back to the sensation of gliding effortlessly through the ocean with air tank on her back and fins on her feet.

Then it was time for lunch at a café overlooking the waterfront, and then an hour browsing the shops. She bought him a little T-shirt with a hand painted design of fishing boats bobbing in the harbour and admired some pottery and sea glass jewellery in the window of a shop she didn't dare enter with a curious toddler who would love to get his hands on some expensive breakables.

They stopped in the chemist's to buy some more sunscreen. "Where is everyone? Seems awfully quiet for a summer day in a lovely seaside village like this," she asked the two old ladies behind the counter.

"They're all out on the water, local and tourist alike," replied the taller one, who was wearing a garish crocheted hat. "You must have heard about the sunken treasure hunt. Biggest news in the village since the Beast of Bodmin was spotted last year."

"Right, it's as big as the Great White Shark of Padstow the year before that," the shorter one with the pinched face and dark hair chimed in.

"So every boat for hire has been hired, and the dive shop is out of equipment now," the first one said. "And they've cleaned us out of seasick remedies as of this morning too."

"Do you think they'll find anything?" Louisa pretended ignorance of the situation.

"Stranger things have happened," the first one replied, with the other nodding.

Next Louisa and James Henry headed home to Chough Cottage so he could nap and she could do a little sun bathing on the back terrace (something else she wouldn't be telling Martin about as he disapproved of unnecessary sun exposure) while she read a paperback of Julian Barnes's _Arthur & George_.

At 6 p.m., they went to the harbour to meet up with the other Martin for dinner and then to settle on a blanket for an outdoor concert by The Fisherman's Friends. Everyone who had been out on the water today was now on hand to hear the popular local group. The tide was on its way out and the slipway, which was similar to the one in Portwenn, acted as a sort of natural amphitheatre for the performance.

"I suppose it's a bit of a busman's holiday for you, listening to Cornish fishermen singing sea shanties when you're a native _cheel_ sitting with us _emmets_," he said.

She giggled to hear him use the Cornish words for "girl" and "tourists."

"Oh I've been enjoying it here. It's such an adventure, even if things haven't gone according to plan. It may turn out to be a wild goose chase but, well, it's nice to have a break from the stresses of home. And to spend some time with… my brother's friends."

Louisa unwrapped a stick of Port Liac rock she bought earlier in the day. "I haven't had one of these in forever, but I fancied one today. It's funny," she broke the stick in half. "I once compared, um, Dr. Someone Special to a stick of rock, because it's solid and the same all the way through, just like him. If he were here now he'd say it's nothing but empty, tooth-rotting calories, but I do love peppermint."

She offered half to Martin. He took it, saying "an empty calorie or two once in a while never hurt anyone." He greeted various people making their way through the sea of blankets and beach chairs covering the slipway, including the two old ladies Louisa recognized from the chemist's. "These are Margaret and Diana. They run the local Women's Institute," he said.

"We're planning our annual garden party at Grace Trevethyn's house," said Margaret, the one with the crocheted hat. "We're debating whether you should be invited again Dr. Bamford, given your disgraceful display last year," Diana scolded him lightly.

"Ladies, I wouldn't miss it for the world. You can count on me to be the very picture of propriety," he declared playfully.

The women moved on and Louisa raised her eyebrows inquiringly at him. "I was there to give a lecture on nutrition and I was sabotaged by Harvey and his mate Matthew," he replied. "They slipped a little something harder into my cup of punch and I may have inadvertently fallen into a fruitcake decorated to look like the village lifeboat. Could have happened to anyone."

"There's Matthew now, with his girlfriend Nicky," he waved to a couple on the other side of the crowd. "Matthew's a gardener. That's the vicar they're talking to, he doesn't know Matt's growing a couple of, uh," he lowered his voice "… cannabis plants on church property."

"And that's Grace," he waved to a middle aged woman. "Lovely lady. An expert on cultivating orchids. I see her husband isn't with her. Rumour has it he's carrying on with someone in London."

"You certainly seem to know everyone and everything that goes on here," Louisa said.

"Yeah, like I said, it's a bloody fishbowl, but I've come to feel at home here," he replied.

"Bamford! Should have known I'd see you here." A tall man, vaguely handsome in a feckless sort of way, stalked up and towered over where they sat, with a scowl that said he wasn't happy to see Martin here. "I'll have you know that I know there's something dodgy about however you managed to grab Tregrunnt Farm out from under our noses."

"Bowden!" Martin scowled back, jumping up to confront him. "You lost the planning permission for your holiday cottages development, and anyway Den decided he wanted to sell to a proper Cornishman. Nothing dodgy about it. It's not like I bribed the estate agent to accept my offer."

"Proper Cornishman!" the man retorted. "You're no more a proper Cornishman than I am. And I heard you were in jail for smuggling illegals when you were supposed to be putting your deposit down on the farm. Anyway, we don't need your pigsty farm. Me and my missus, we've been taking diving lessons. Found an Australian dollar right here in the harbour, it's my new lucky piece. We're going to find this Spanish treasure everyone's talking about, these other sods don't have a clue about the real whereabouts."

"What?" Louisa leapt to her feet at this. The man's scowl changed to a leer as he looked her up and down. "Hello there. You with him?" He jerked his head toward Martin.

"Tim! Get over here!" The man jumped as a sharp-faced woman with a sharp voice summoned him from across the crowd and he hurried away. "Tosser. And Mrs. Tosser," Martin snapped.

"What was all that about?" Louisa asked as they settled back on the blanket beside James Henry.

"Oh they don't know anything," Martin sputtered, clearly still annoyed. "And that business about being in jail… it was just for a few hours… Bowden's got the story all wrong… I was just helping out some friends…"

"Could have happened to anyone?"

"Exactly." He calmed down and smiled. The crowd quieted as the singers started to take their places on the little stage set up on the beach.

As the music began, Louisa felt his gaze linger on her. It took her back to another open air concert not so very long ago, when another tall, fair-haired man gazed at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She turned toward this one and he looked away, just as the other one had done. She contemplated his distinctive features, both comic and beautiful in the early evening light, and was more confused than ever.

_To be continued…_

The Fisherman's Friends is a famed Cornish men's singing group based in Port Isaac.

Something North American readers might not be familiar with - a stick of rock is a sweet similar to a candy cane but not hooked. It's often sold at seaside resorts in the U.K. The stick has the name of the resort embedded throughout the length, so no matter how far you bite or suck it down the name is always legible. Louisa compared Martin Ellingham to a stick of rock in S2E8 "Erotomania."

There's a bunch of quick references to characters and events from the Doc Martin movies in this chapter, again hopefully not too confusing for those who haven't seen the movies.

And to those commenters concerned that Louisa is taking things too far with Martin Bamford… well, no spoilers but there are some more plot twists coming up. Rest assured that all's well that ends well.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: A Minor Emergency

Friday night

When the concert ended, the summer sun had not yet set over the ocean, so they headed to the surgery cottage, which overlooked the Platt.

"Oh dear, James had a long nap today and I'm afraid he'll never get to sleep tonight after all this excitement," Louisa said as she set the wide awake baby on the kitchen floor with his toy fire truck and favourite purple dinosaur. "Do you really think there's anything to this map? I mean people who forge antiques can be very clever and, when you think about it, it's not really likely a ship from the Spanish Armada would have made it to Cornwall, is it. And now Tom and Harvey are changing their minds about where they think it is."

Martin went to put the kettle on. "Well like you said, we've had fun with it and met some… uh, interesting people along the way. And once we sail down to Portwenn it'll throw everybody else off the scent."

"So it's definite for tomorrow then? Will you be coming ashore in Portwenn do you think, or staying on the boat?"

"Well, we'll be diving from the boat most of the day, but you never know what could happen." Martin opened a kitchen drawer and rummaged around. "Louisa, I know you're leaving tomorrow... There's something I've been meaning to tell you…"

He took a joint out of a jar in the drawer and found a lighter on the counter. Louisa glanced at him with slight irritation, which interrupted his train of thought. "What?" he said. "You liked it the other night. It's no different from having a glass of wine to relax at the end of the day. It does seem strange that alcohol is legal and marijuana isn't."

"It's just… twice in one week? I don't know." It was starting to seem to her unbecoming for a grown man to be indulging in a habit more suited to students at university. "I'd rather not have the smoke around the baby, that's all."

"No problem," he said, putting the joint back and pouring them each some tea. "Uh Louisa, as I was saying, there's something… well I haven't been completely honest with you."

There was a sudden noise of two men having a row right outside. Martin ran to open the front door, with Louisa close behind. They found Harvey and Tom there, Tom with a bloody handkerchief held up to his nose. The two of them burst into the cottage, slamming the door behind them. "Sorry for the commotion Doc," said Harvey. "Tom's gone and bloody well bollocksed things up even worse."

"Did the Prescotts do this to you?" Martin asked, examining Tom's nose.

"No, they're happy for the time being," Tom replied. "I gave them some more cash yesterday, that should hold them for now. No, it's the Tonkens."

"Local loan sharks," Harvey responded to Martin's confused look. "Alistair Tonken, old man on a mobility scooter, and son Norman, basically a hairless gorilla with tattoos. They set up shop here last year after getting kicked out of Portwenn."

"I borrowed a grand from them two weeks ago to help stave off the Prescotts and have something to live on for the time being. Now they want it all back, with interest. I told them I would have it tomorrow. That's what you said, your investor friend's coming tomorrow with the money, right Martin?" Tom said.

Martin frowned and nodded. "Yes, I'm sure my... um, associate is good for it. We'll get it sorted. Anyone else you owe money to we should know about?"

"Just the Prescotts and the Tonkens, that's it. Scout's honour! It's just that... Tonken senior said there would be repercussions or consequences or something if I didn't pay up and I got into a dust-up with the gorilla son, and… I'm afraid I had to… well, give them the map, as collateral. Just till tomorrow."

"What? I had it here in the surgery, locked in the drugs cabinet in my office," Martin said.

"Yeah, I had to use the key you keep above the back door to get in while you were at the concert and a metal shim to pick the cabinet lock. I figured you'd understand Doc, it being a minor emergency and all. You should find a better hiding place for that key. And you might want to invest in a better lock for the cabinet, looks like you've got some Class C drugs samples in there."

Martin was now furious, pacing out of the room to control his anger.

"Well we don't need the map." Harvey was disgusted but still willing to defend his friend. "We think we've got a handle on the real location. We have the modern charts that accurately show the coast and the terrain under the water."

"What are the Tonkens going to do with it anyway?" Tom insisted. "They don't have a boat. It's just collateral till Martin's friend comes with the money. Then everything'll get right back on track."

"Well you shouldn't dive tomorrow," said Martin, pacing back in. "Take a few days to rest up and try to stay out of trouble."

"No, a good night's sleep and I'll be like new in the morning. We shouldn't wait any longer on this."

"What's the harm in another day off?" Harvey chimed in. "Anybody around here who got a look at that map would naturally think the wreck site is off Port Liac. We're the only ones who know that the location might in fact be a few miles down the coast, that it's likely off Portwenn."

"Er, not exactly," Tom reluctantly confessed. "I may have… mentioned it to the Prescott brothers."

Now even Harvey was outraged. "What is wrong with you? Why would you do that?"

"I'm in over my head with them. That's why I went to the Tonkens in the first place. I had to give Eddie and Emrys something so I could keep in the poker game, waiting for luck to be my lady love again. Turns out she's just a totty who took all my money and ran off with another bloke. The Prescotts know we're diving for treasure, everybody in the village knows now. I kept telling Eddie we were due for a big find soon, and when we weren't getting it I had to tell him we were moving the search a bit."

"I can't wait for your nose to heal up, I'm gonna break it all over again," snarled Harvey.

"Well, it's not like the Prescotts know where to look off Portwenn. They don't have the map," Tom defended himself.

"Yeah, it's not like anybody in this village ever talks about anything with anybody," Harvey snapped back.

Louisa had heard enough. "I don't believe it, Tommy. You were the one who was so insistent everything had to be Top Secret, and then you go and natter on to everyone and his brother, and gamble and burgle and God knows what else on top of that. You're… you're… just like Dad!"

"Oh Louisa! Why do you have to drag Dad into this?"

"Honestly, I'm thinking of leaving right now," she said. "What if some more of your criminal friends decide to come after you tonight? I have James to think of."

Martin had picked up the now grizzling James Henry, cuddling him on his shoulder as much to sooth himself as the baby. Louisa went over to take James from him.

"I wanted James to get to know his uncle, but I'm seriously having second thoughts about that," she muttered.

Martin followed her out of the kitchen and into the lounge, where she was tucking the baby into his pushchair. "Louisa, you're not really thinking of leaving tonight, are you? It's a dark, lonely drive going across the moor at night, especially with a fussy baby. I mean, he might be too much off his schedule to sleep all the way home. And it's not good to leave on an argument you know. It's like they say - you should never go to bed angry, or something like that."

She sighed and felt herself calming down.

"I could come stay at Tom's house with you overnight. I mean Harvey and I could, you know, sleep downstairs, if you were worried about anyone coming to hurt Tom again."

"Oh it's all right," she said. "We can take care of ourselves. I'm sure it'll be fine if we leave in the morning as planned."

"Well, don't go off too early," he said. "Why don't you and James Henry come around here for a farewell brunch, say around 11?"

_To be continued…_

Class C drugs in the U.K. are controlled substances with legitimate medicinal use.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: The Penny Drops

Saturday morning.

It wasn't until the next morning that Louisa remembered Martin Bamford had said he wanted to tell her something. She made a mental note to ask him about it before she left.

It was another bright clear day. Louisa gave her own Martin a call, but he didn't pick up so she left him a message saying they would likely be home around 2. Harvey had ended up sleeping on the sofa just to allay any lingering fears of vengeful loan sharks showing up at untoward hours. He and Tom were up and out the door well before Louisa and James were descending the stairs. Tom left another note of apology for his general behaviour and not being around to see her off. She crumpled it and binned it, not yet ready for forgiveness.

She had some toast and tea as James had his cereal, then she took her time gathering up the baby things, which had gotten scattered around the little cottage in the past week. It was already past 11 when she put him in his pushchair. Her plan was to put some of their bags in the boot of the Lexus on her way to the surgery and come back for the rest after brunch and goodbyes.

They went over to the car park where the Lexus still sat. As Louisa opened the boot, a red Jaguar convertible pulled in and parked beside her. A tall, white-haired man got out and checked his watch. A Rolex, she couldn't help but notice.

He gave her a good long glance. "Hello. Need a hand with that?"

"No I've got it. Thanks anyway," she replied, hefting the bags into the boot and slamming it shut.

She began strolling with James up the street toward the surgery and the stranger walked alongside her. The man appeared to be well into his 70s but in very good shape, casually but expensively dressed, with polished Italian loafers. He wore sunglasses and had a definite down-from-town swagger about him.

"We seem to be heading in the same direction," he said. "So are you a local?"

"Just visiting family here this week," she said.

The man made a comment or two about the weather, the lack of traffic, and so on. Louisa made polite but friendly replies.

"Quite a fine sprog you've got there," he said. "Yours I presume?"

"Yes, my little man," she said, beaming. James gave the stranger a big smile, showing off four tiny front teeth.

"Made fantastic time from London. Got an early start and really opened her up on the motorway," he said. "It's beautiful country, I spent some time here in the past. You sound like a Cornish lass yourself, but if you're not familiar with Port Liac I could show you round, take you for a ride in the country with the top down. The Jag that is… unless you've got something you'd like to show me."

He had such an air of charm and confidence about him that Louisa felt more giggly than offended by the innuendo. She was used to men flirting with her but his cheesy chat-up lines were more suited to a young man in a London club than a distinguished looking older gentleman. If it wasn't so early in the day, his next move would probably be to offer to buy her a drink, she thought.

"If I may be so bold, if we took a drive I wouldn't have eyes for the countryside. The finest scenic view seems to be right here," he continued.

"Actually," he lowered his voice to an intimate level. "I'm a bit surprised to see a lass like you, with a little baby and all, and no ring on your finger. Seems you've had your fun with no strings attached. I know how to show a girl a good time. If you're up for it, I'm game. You seem fit enough since popping that one out. Nothing like being up the duff to enhance a girl's assets, eh?"

Louisa was speechless that the man had gone so far over the line so quickly, but it took just a nanosecond for her to regain her voice. "What! Who do you think you… _How dare you speak to me in that manner!"_

They were in front of the surgery by now and people passing in the street were beginning to stare. The man was still calm and cool. He took off his sunglasses and regarded her with pale blue-grey eyes. "I apologize for making assumptions, miss. No harm done, is there?"

"Please be on your way. This is where I was heading anyway," she snapped. Looking at him dead-on, there was something familiar about him, and it wasn't just that he was too familiar with her.

"Actually, this is my destination too," the man said. There was an awkward pause, then it hit Louisa right between the eyes. "Oh... My... _God!_"

She grabbed the baby, ran up the steps, and burst through the unlocked door. _"MARTIN!"_

The man picked up the pushchair and carried it up the steps behind her. Louisa whirled to face him. "You're Dr. Ellingham!"

"That's _Mr._ Ellingham!" he replied, his mask of charm slipping for a moment. "I'm a surgeon, not a _GP!"_

Martin came into the reception and stood frozen in place. "Why didn't you tell me your _friend_ was Dr., I mean, Mr. Ellingham!" Louisa demanded.

"Louisa, you're late!" Martin exclaimed. "And Dad, you're early!"

Mr. Ellingham was bemused. "Up with the larks and really opened up the Jag on the motorway." He turned to Louisa again. "Have we met? I'm sure I would have remembered."

That's when the penny dropped all the way for Louisa. Still holding the baby, who was now screaming his lungs out, she sank into a chair, stunned. "He's your… You're Martin's… But…but… Why didn't you tell me?"

"It never seemed like the right time. I meant to last night, but things happened, and then I was going to this morning and… uh, well, here we are."

Furious, Louisa put the baby under one arm, grabbed the pushchair from Mr. Ellingham with the other arm and headed for the door. Martin ran after her. "Wait, please Louisa. Dad, why don't you go on off to the pub, they should be open for lunch by now. We need to talk here."

"Of course," Mr. Ellingham said, with a wink. "Didn't mean to move in on your bird Alex."

As Mr. Ellingham left, Martin took the baby from Louisa and jiggled him to calm him down. She followed them back inside and sat down again, thoroughly confused. "So are you going to tell me exactly what's going on… hmmm, _Alex?"_

"Come on in the kitchen, everything's almost ready," he said. "We've got omelettes and Bloody Marys. I know I could use a drink."

_To be continued…_


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: The Truth Comes Out

Saturday midday.

"You see, my real name… rather, my _full_ name is Alexander Martin Bamford. No Ellingham in there. Dad didn't want any hint of scandal intruding on his life as a prestigious London surgeon, with a posh wife and a well brought up son who followed in his career footsteps."

"So you're… well…" Louisa didn't quite know how to say it without sounding like she was in a 19th Century novel.

"A bastard, yeah. Just like your little 'un," he grinned, nodding at James, who was now sitting in his pushchair happily chewing on a celery stick.

"Why did you lie to me when we met?"

"Ah you see, I didn't. I said I didn't know Martin Ellingham, and I don't. Never met him. Yes, I did say I'm an only child, but I was brought up as one and I don't think a half-brother I've never met is enough to disrupt that status."

He brought over two plates of perfectly turned omelettes, with some bacon and grilled mushrooms on the side. Louisa noted to herself this was yet another way he was just like her Martin - he was an excellent cook. With a few sips of Bloody Mary inside her she was already calming down.

"I should start from the beginning," Martin said. "My mum was from Cornwall originally. She moved to London to study to be an actress and dancer. She appeared in some West End shows early on." He got up to go into the lounge and brought out a framed black-and-white photo. "This is her back then. Her career never took off, maybe her Cornish accent held her back. She never could completely shed it. She had to work as a secretary to support us. She's gone now, cancer got her a few years ago."

The photo showed a pretty young woman with dark hair, high cheekbones, and a heart-shaped face. It reminded Louisa of a photo of her Martin's mother taken years ago, which she had seen among the family memorabilia stored in Joan's barn. The difference was Margaret Ellingham was formally posed, wearing a twin set and a string of pearls, while this woman had a warm smile and was dressed in a sequin costume that looked like it was from the chorus line of a musical.

"You know, she actually looks a bit like my Martin's mum, but the personality seems like night and day," she remarked.

"I suppose Dad has a certain physical type that he likes," Martin mused. "He saw her in some show and began hanging around the stage door with flowers, chatting her up. He told her his wife didn't understand him, the usual line, and they'd stopped having sex after their son was born. So here he was, this charming, wealthy, important gentleman eager to spend money on a naïve girl, show her a good time in the big city and all. She was flattered, and they had an affair for the better part of a year. Then they got careless, she got knocked up. He helped her out financially and all, but he wasn't about to leave the wife who allegedly didn't understand him and openly take up with his mistress. Anyway, he just lost interest in her after that. Moved onto other girls. I suppose he has a bit of a Madonna-whore complex. Once a woman becomes a mother she's off-limits sexually to him. All very Freudian really."

"I don't know about that." Louisa became indignant. "He propositioned me just while we were walking from the car park. He knew James was my baby. He even implied having a baby out of wedlock meant I was loose. You know, he seemed so charming at first but then it just got insulting."

That gave Martin pause. "Maybe he just has a complex with women who give birth to his own children. Or maybe he's gone from suave gentleman to desperate, dirty old man. Wouldn't surprise me. He always made it sound like he retired because he wanted to work on his golf game, but I'm sure encroaching age meant he was slipping as a surgeon. No doubt he's losing his touch with the ladies too. Anyway, sorry you had to put up with that."

"I guess he wouldn't know that I gave birth to his grandchild."

"I'm not sure he even knows he has a grandchild. He's never mentioned it. Not that he shares much personal stuff about his _legitimate heir _nowadays," Martin took on an ironic tone, "not with me."

"Anyway, Mum wanted to name me Martin after her own father, but Dad wouldn't hear of it because… well, he already had one by that name, didn't he. He wanted Alexander for me so Mum settled for Martin as a middle name. She always preferred calling me Marty though. When I was 17 Granddad died so when I went off to uni I started formally going by my middle name. I was really close to my Granddad, he was more of a father figure for me than my own Dad. He lived in Port Liac and we used to spend holidays here with him. Really tore me up when he passed so I suppose I took on his name to feel closer to him. Dad still calls me Alex though."

Martin cleared the dishes and filled the kettle. "Actually, I think I could use another Bloody Mary," Louisa said. "Not too strong though."

"On his rare visits, Dad would tout Martin's accomplishments. I feel like I grew up in the shadow of my half-brother," he continued, mixing up another round for both of them. "He was five years ahead of me. He grew up in a Kensington townhouse with two parents. I shared a flat in Kilburn with my Mum, craving my Dad's attention. He went off to prep school and public school. I went to neighbourhood state schools. I did well for myself though. Big brother got six A-levels so I had to get six. He did his medical course at Imperial College but I got myself into Cambridge. He became a surgeon like the old man but he rebelled against doing time in the Royal Navy. I took my cue from him on that too. Dad was always banging on about how going to sea before he even did his medical training made a man of him. He wanted to see at least one of his boys in the Royal Navy Medical Service but apparently that didn't suit Martin and I knew it wouldn't suit me. Once I rebelled against one expectation it was easier to go on and rebel against being a surgeon."

"Did you even really want to be a doctor, then? I know you said you had a knack for it."

"Oh I definitely did. Even without Dad pushing me into it I was always fascinated with medicine. Read books about it when I was a kid. No, it's that surgery tends to attract gruff, arrogant types, who prefer to deal with bodies rather than people. Prestigious work, but they're mostly miserable sods. Obstetrics was more my line, bringing new life into the world. Ironic really, me not having any kids myself. Dad would wind me up about obstetrics, just like now he winds me about being a GP. It's never good enough."

"And then there's the Ellingham name," he went on. "They originally come from some place called Wold Newton in Yorkshire. They're not a prolific family but they are an accomplished one. Long line of doctors, father to son. I understand I've got an aunt who's a doctor too."

"That's right, Ruth. She's a psychiatrist."

"Not that I've ever met her. Then there's a great-great-something-great uncle who was a distinguished mathematician, a distant cousin who was a distinguished chemist, and another one that's a baronet. He's a doddering old bachelor so if he kicks off someday without managing to snag a young wife and produce a boy of his own, then Dad gets the title."

"Wait, _what?_"

"Yeah, he would be Sir Christopher Ellingham. Then the legit heir would be Sir Martin next, and your son, yes, little James Henry, could someday be Sir James, though I don't know how the rules work what with you not being married and all. It goes back to Jacobean times. It's not like it comes with extra money or a seat in the House of Lords or anything. It's a historic relic really, but it's another family thing I'm shut out of."

Louisa was fascinated and baffled. "Martin never talks about any of this."

"So that's my story. It's a relief to tell it. I've never really talked about any of this myself. I mentioned a few things to Petronella but she never seemed terribly interested."

Louisa picked up the baby to check his nappy while she gathered her thoughts. Martin watched her. "And then there's you," he said.

_To be continued…_

I'll leave it to curious readers to find out about Wold Newton for themselves.


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry for the delay in posting this, some real life stuff got in the way there. Lots more story to come - Stella D.

Chapter 15: The Other Side of the Truth

Saturday midday.

Louisa was startled. "How do you mean?"

"Well, I get a wife who cheats on me with my colleagues and friends, and Martin gets a beautiful, clever, thoughtful partner who gives birth to his son, and he doesn't even seem to appreciate her."

Louisa changed James's nappy, washed her hands, and sat down, all the while trying to gather her thoughts.

"Martin, er, Alex… this story you've built up in your mind, where my Martin is the golden child and you're some sort of mistake or afterthought… I don't think it reflects reality. Or not the whole reality."

Now it was his turn to be confused. "How do you mean?"

She struggled to explain what she wasn't entirely sure of herself. "It's like one of those optical illusions, where a picture looks like one thing and then suddenly it's something else entirely, like you think it's two faces staring at each other, and then you see a vase."

"Martin doesn't talk much about his family and childhood, but his Aunt Joan did a little," she continued. "From what I know he was hardly treated as a little prince. His father was an overbearing bully. His mother was distant and cold, she blamed him being born for the rift in her marriage. Martin was a sensitive, intelligent boy who was emotionally abused and, I think, sometimes physically abused as well. He was further mentally scarred by being sent away to boarding school at an early age. He got some relief by spending summers here in Cornwall with Joan for a while but then his father, your father, put a stop to that. Something about deciding Joan was immoral because she'd had an affair. Seems beyond absurd now that I've met dear old Dad."

"The notion that Mr. Ellingham praised Martin's accomplishments to you is even more bizarre. I don't think he ever spoke a word of praise to Martin in his life, even when Martin was head of vascular surgery at Imperial. In fact it sounded like he took a perverse pleasure in Martin developing his haemophobia."

"His _what?"_

"His blood phobia. He says it was a minor anxiety disorder resulting from over exposure to a high pressure environment but it ruined his career. That's why he retrained to become a GP in Portwenn. You didn't know about this?"

"Dad never mentioned it. I didn't even know big brother was in Cornwall until you showed up and started talking about him."

Louisa frowned. "I'm beginning to think your Dad has some sort of Oedipus complex in reverse, if you want to get Freudian about it. He's afraid of getting old, losing his potency, and being overtaken by the accomplishments of his sons. He strokes his ego by making you both feel inadequate. You seem to have been the lucky one that you escaped having this misery inflicted on you full-time. It's despicable that dear old Dad used Martin as a way to tear you down on the rare occasions he could be bothered to visit you. And living in a Kilburn flat with your single Mum doesn't seem to have hurt you any. She sounds like a lovely woman and she raised a basically happy, well adjusted son."

"Actually, it makes me angry and sad to think what my Martin might have been like if he'd had at least one parent who respected him… and loved him. People like to describe him as surly, self-centred, and rude, but really he isn't self-centred at all. As long as I've known him he's always been the one who saves the day for everyone else, even if it puts him in harm's way. He deserves so much better than the way he was treated." Louisa began to choke up with tears.

He went over and put his arms around her. He gave her his handkerchief to dry her eyes but she noticed he dabbed at his own as well. "I… don't know what to say. I should have made more of an effort to warn you before Dad got here. I had no idea what was going on with big broth…. um, Martin. I've always basically loved my Dad, even if from a distance. I still can't get my head around your description of him."

He pulled out a cigarette but stopped himself and put it back. "Sorry, force of habit. Anyway, Dad lived in Portugal full-time for a while but he keeps a place in London now. He was separated from his wife, Martin's mum, but I think they're back together again. He had some financial setbacks but he's back on his feet. I just thought it would be a lark to bring him out here and get him involved. I thought you'd be happy he's putting some money in this venture and bailing your brother out."

They both fell quiet and he glanced at his watch. "It's been an hour. I should go fetch him at the pub. He and I need to have a talk. You and James can take off if you don't want to face him again, I'll understand."

"No, I'll go with you. Like you said, he's helping to bail out Tom. I don't know what to say to him though, if anything really."

_To be continued…_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Satyriasis

Saturday midday.

They got the baby in his pushchair and went out down the hill from the surgery to the Lion. "By the way, any idea what Tom and Harvey got up to today?" Martin asked. "I don't suppose Tom took my advice about resting up."

"Not a chance," she replied. "They were up with the sun and out the door before I saw them. They should be off Portwenn by now, diving."

They entered the pub. The place was open but with no one at the bar or behind it. They stood there for a moment, then a broad-shouldered man with dirty blond hair and cauliflower ears came in. Louisa recognized him as the one who showed up at Chough Cottage the night of the storm except he had a droopy eye. Must be the twin brother Martin mentioned, she thought.

"Where's Fiona?" he demanded. From upstairs came faint murmuring and a giggle. The man bounded up, taking the stairs two at a time. They could hear arguing, then a woman shrieked, and the voices escalated to shouting. Bounding down the stairs two at a time came Christopher Ellingham, looking not so distinguished and moving surprisingly fast for an old man, pulling up his zip, belt undone, clutching his polished Italian loafers, and shouting, "Come on son, angry husband in close pursuit!"

Then the angry man followed down the stairs yelling bloody murder, and Fiona close behind, buttoning her blouse, saying, "It's nothing Emrys, he was just showing me his war wounds," as they all disappeared out the door.

"I don't suppose he has actual war wounds," Louisa mused.

"Just an appendicitis scar from when he was in the Royal Navy," Martin replied dryly. "I'd better see that he escapes all right. We'd best be off to Portwenn to meet up with Harvey and Tom on the boat."

"Wait, what? You never said _you_ were going to Portwenn. And with _dear old Dad!_"

"I think we should get out of town for the day." From down the street they heard Emrys shouting "I'll kill you if I get a hold of you, you dirty old coffin-dodger!"

"Er, got to go!" With that, Martin was off.

Louisa stood there in shock. Oh God, she thought, what if people see them in Portwenn, there's bound to be gossip. What if it gets back to my Martin? What if he runs into them? He'll be furious, in shock. She realized she had to warn him.

She pulled out her mobile but thought the better of it. How to explain this without sounding like a madwoman? Better to do it in person, she thought. She ran to the car park as fast as she could with the baby, drove the Lexus to Tom's cottage, parked in the narrow street, and ran inside with James to get the rest of their gear. She strapped the baby in his seat and sped out of town, wishing she hadn't had that second drink.

The Lexus made good time on the motorway, flying across the moor. She didn't see the Jaguar on the road so she figured she was ahead of them. As she approached Portwenn she had the idea of stopping at Havenhurst Farm first. Martin must be anxious to see James but it might be easier to sit down and talk with him about everything she had just learned if the baby wasn't there as a distraction. Perhaps Ruth could watch him for a short while and Louisa thought it might help if she could talk about the situation with her before trying to explain it to Martin.

At the farm, Ruth was outside clipping hydrangeas for a vase. Louisa parked and approached her, trying to think how to explain the situation.

"Go on girl, I can see you're bursting with something," Ruth said. "Just blurt it out."

Louisa took a deep breath. "You might have heard I was in Port Liac, well I met a man there who looks just like Martin, he's the GP there, his name is Martin too but he has a different surname and doesn't act at all like him, our Martin that is, but anyway it turns out his father is your brother. That is, his Dad is Martin's Dad. And I need you to watch James for an hour if it's not too much trouble."

Ruth looked astonished, then she began to smile more broadly than Louisa had ever seen her do. "Oh my," she even suppressed a laugh. "Christopher really is quite the Don Juan, isn't he? I've often wondered if he could be diagnosed with satyriasis. So there's proof of his hypersexual proclivities out there running around North Cornwall. He's quite the hypocrite too. Do you know, he stopped Martin from coming here years ago because he decided Joan was setting a bad example with her affair."

"Yes, Joan told me."

"All right then, but what does this have to do with me watching the baby?"

"Well, they're coming here, to Portwenn, Christopher and the other Martin, or Alex he goes by sometimes, and I thought I should warn our Martin, and then I thought it would be easier to talk to him if James wasn't there as a distraction. I've got all his baby things with me and I'll be back to get him in an hour or so."

"Fine, let's get him into the house and you can be off then. Just one thing, this other fellow, why is his name Martin too?"

Louisa looked blank, she couldn't figure out how to explain that quickly.

"Never mind, I can see it's too complicated. I'm sure it'll all come out soon enough."

Louisa thanked her profusely and then sped out of the farmyard and off on the country road. She was composing in her mind just how to start explaining the situation to Martin when she felt a thump and the car began to pull to the left. Flat tyre. Oh great, she thought. She pulled out her mobile. No signal. Even better. She got out the jack, elevated the car, and with some effort managed to get the lug nuts loose. She rolled the spare over, lifted it in place, got the lugs on tight, and lowered the car, only to see the spare flatten out on the ground. Bugger! Why didn't she let Martin check over everything before she took off last weekend?

She figured she was about two and a half miles from the village but it was equally far back to the farm. No other vehicles had gone past in the time she was stuck there. She considered her options a moment, then rummaged in her luggage to take off the wedge-heeled shoes she was wearing and put on trainers.

Oh dear, forgot my sun hat at Tommy's, she thought. She grabbed her handbag and began to walk to the village, thoroughly exasperated and wondering what else could possibly go wrong that day.

_To be continued…_

Satyriasis: The male version of nymphomania. Does Christopher Ellingham have this or is he just a tosser? Probably a bit of both.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Deep Blue, Red Menace

Saturday midday.

A white and copper green fishing boat, with the name _Louisa_ painted on the stern, bobbed at anchor on the blue waves alone in the summer sun. There was no one on deck, not even a little dog to bring the crew luck. The two men who had sailed her there were both far below the surface, exploring the sandy bottom. Unknown to them another boat came sailing along and dropped anchor a short distance away, then a third drew alongside, and a fourth as well. As each boat arrived at the spot, one by one the people aboard donned their diving gear and dropped into the marine depths.

Deep beneath the restless waves, a diver glided through the clear dim water, waving a metal detector and studying the alien world around him. "Shiny or black, shiny or black," he repeated in his mind. Then there it was, shining in the light of his torch beam on the sand – surely it was a battered gold doubloon. He reached for it. There a few meters away was a second one, then a third. He grabbed them all and stashed them in a mesh bag on his belt.

The diver followed the shiny objects like a trail of breadcrumbs through a forest. They led to some rusty bits of iron, probably bolts, which crumbled into flakes when he picked one up. Ahead he could see a looming shape, and the words of the poet came tumbling into his mind. This was a foundered town where the ocean water stirred in salt-worn casement and porch, and the unearthly lovely wept in lament of the music they made in the sullen courts of sleep. For a moment, Tom Glasson thought he had realized his childhood dream of finding "sea-cold Lyonesse."

He swam closer. There were large metal tubes that looked cannons. They were corroded but seemed more solid than the rusted bolts, probably made of bronze, he thought. There was a pile of shipworm-pocked timber that resembled the grandly ornate aftcastle of an old ship, like a Hollywood movie fantasy of a pirate ship, collapsed into the mud of the ocean bottom, now partially covered with sand. There were more rusty bits of iron scattered about, and some broken pottery and an intact glass bottle. He saw an old leather shoe and then a pile of bones held together by the tattered remains of a shirt and trousers. Just beyond that the skull of the unlucky sailor lay on the sand, regarding him with empty eye sockets and a toothy grin.

Spooked, he swam around the pile. The skull had left him with the unnerving sense he was an intruder on this long-dead place and was being watched. From the corner of his eye he saw something moving but when he turned there was only a crab scuttling through the wreck. Relax, he told himself, this may be a graveyard but it's in the middle of the living ocean.

Then he saw it - a dark shape behind a jagged bit of timber. This was not a skeletal heap but the upright outline of a head, shoulders, and arms, a human form unencumbered by diving gear. Even in the cold depths, Tom felt a chill of fright. He looked around for Harvey but saw no one. Too late, he thought they should have taken the diving buddy system more seriously but they decided they could cover more ground separately. He got up his courage and moved warily toward the figure.

It was a carving. The fine detail was worn down by currents, but miraculously it was barely touched by shipworm and bits of paint and gilding could still be seen in the light of his torch. It was a ship's figurehead of a mermaid. Esmeralda.

Tom could hardly contain his excitement. All fears forgotten, he could have kissed that old mermaid on her salt-worn lips if the mouthpiece on his breathing apparatus wasn't in the way.

Looking down, he spotted a small dark object lying on the sand that buried the base of the carving. Shiny or black, found something shiny so here's something black, maybe there are silver pieces of eight, he thought. He picked it up. It wasn't flat like a coin, but rounded, oval, and smooth. There were several scattered about a small metal box that was broken open.

As he reached out to touch the box a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed his wrist.

A split second of pure terror, then Tom realized the hand was not from an angry inhabitant of long lost Lyonesse or the resentful ghost of a drowned sailor but another diver. It wasn't Harvey, that much was clear from the interloper's shortened wet suit that left his forearms and knees exposed.

The other diver picked up a bit of timber and swung it at Tom, the water making it difficult for the improvised weapon to move with much force or accuracy. He swung it again, forcing Tom to move up and back to avoid it. Then the diver paused his assault, a sudden look of horror behind his mask that caused Tom to turn and see what he was looking at.

It was a truly alien presence, a pulsing mass glowing blood red in the dim filtered sunlight, as big as a man's head but with an inhuman mane of tawny tangled locks flowing down as long as a man's body and more. There was a pause as Tom floated, transfixed by the spectre, then he felt a shove from behind and a blinding electric shock.

_To be continued…_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: A Possible Emergency

Saturday midday.

Martin Ellingham tried to focus on the removing the brass plate that held together the old clock's movement. He picked up a tiny screwdriver, delicately turned the screws that held the plate in place, then assessed the situation: Eight of the pivot holes would need bushings installed.

He glanced at the clock on the shelf, which was working perfectly. Soon Louisa and James would be home. Martin was quite looking forward to it. He thought having a quiet week to himself would be a nice change from noisy, untidy family life but he missed them both more than he had thought possible. The cottage where he had lived on his own for years now seemed terribly empty and he had been feeling blue all week.

The phone rang. "PC Penhale 3021. Some sort of disturbance down at the Slipway, possible jellyfish sting, Doc."

"What do you mean 'possible'?" Martin snapped. He'd already been called out once that morning, for a case of appendicitis that turned out to be merely indigestion, and he didn't want to be disturbed unnecessarily on a Saturday.

"A boat came into the harbour and the crew reported an injury. Not one of our fishermen, some visitors to our waters. They weren't too clear about what was going on," Penhale said.

"Call me if you actually have an emergency to report. Otherwise don't bother me, surgery is closed Saturdays."

Martin rang off and pondered what to prepare for Louisa's first supper back. He thought perhaps a lemon sole with mustard sauce, with brown rice, and carrots and green beans fresh from his aunt's farm, and then for afters pears poached in white wine with a dark chocolate sauce drizzled over all. Just a bit of chocolate sauce. He didn't approve of indulging in sweets with empty calories but now he was willing to concede that certain studies indicated good quality chocolate, high in cocoa content, could have a positive effect on blood pressure and serotonin levels in the brain and other health benefits, if taken in moderation.

He would get a good bottle of wine and she could enjoy just one glass of whatever he didn't use for the poaching. Louisa would like that, he decided. He could prepare some mashed vegetables and plain pears for James too. He glanced at the clock on the shelf again and decided the repairs to the non-working clock could wait. There was just enough time to get down the hill to do the marketing and be back in time to start cooking preparations, he thought. Yes, he was definitely looking forward to it.

Hmmm, there seemed to be a small spot on his tie, perhaps a speck of oil from the clock innards. Best to change it, perhaps put on the blue checked silk one, Louisa had said she really liked that one with the white shirt and navy blue suit he was wearing now. Martin went upstairs, took off his jacket, laid it gently on the bed while he selected the fresh tie and carefully knotted it.

From the street, he heard the rev of a powerful engine and the squeal of tyres abruptly braking. He looked out the front window and saw a red convertible pull into his private parking, beside the white Lexus. From above he could see two men up front in the convertible and two others sprawled in the tiny back seat. Martin ran down the stairs jacketless just as the front door opened and someone who looked like Danny Steel burst in shouting "Louisa!"

"Oh, you must be the Doc," the man said, startled. "My God, you're just like the other Doc."

"What? Surgery is closed today. What do you want with Louisa?" Martin snarled.

"She does live here, right? We've got something to tell her," the man said. "Hey, you must know our Danny. I'm his cousin Harvey."

Just behind him came in a tall, white-haired man, an all-too-familiar figure. Martin's mouth dropped open. "Dad!"

"We've got a case for you, Martin," the old man said.

Then behind him came in a slim, dark-haired man with hazel green eyes reminiscent of Louisa, with a tall, fair-haired man – the most strangely familiar of them all. Martin looked him straight in the eye. "Who the hell are you?" he simply said.

_To be continued…_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: The Interlopers

Saturday midday.

"I'm, er, Alex," the man said, looking startled and holding out his hand. "Louisa must have explained we'd be in town and might run into you." Martin ignored his hand and the man withdrew it.

"Well, I'm Tom Glasson," the injured one said. "I hate to disturb this cosy reunion but my hand is hurting something awful. Where's Louisa?"

"Don't you know? She's been visiting you all week, said she'd be home today," Martin replied. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Jellyfish sting," Christopher explained, pointing to a blistering rash on Louisa's brother's left hand. "Our investment partners rang us for help, apparently Tom here encountered something called a lion's mane jelly. We tried treating him on the beach, with mixed results."

"Yeah, he poured fresh water over it, that made it worse. Then he wanted to piss on it, but I told him vinegar's best," Danny Steel's cousin chimed in. "Every fisherman knows that, from getting stung by bits of tentacles stuck on ropes. I keep some on my boat."

"I was not serious about urinating on it, I merely mentioned that as a last resort," Christopher said. "And I can't be expected to keep up with first aid techniques. I'm a surgeon, not a GP."

"However, I do know jellyfish stings can cause anaphylactic shock in those who are allergic or cardiac distress in a patient with a pre-existing heart condition," he continued. "Alex and I weren't equipped to properly examine him on the beach so we brought him here. You're a GP, this is right up your alley." He motioned Louisa's brother toward the examining room. "Go through."

"What do you think you're doing?" Martin said. His arms were stiff at his sides and his fingers were tensing up. "This is _my_ surgery. Why are you even here? I paid you off to stay away from Portwenn, but you could have done the decent thing and shown up for Joan's funeral."

"Was out of the country during the funeral, didn't get the news till it was all over. And we didn't plan on stopping in town today," the old man replied. "Got an opportunity to invest in an undersea archaeological venture in these parts, couldn't resist."

The interlopers all moved toward the exam room together, the two taller ones ducking their heads to avoid the hallway lintel. "Get back, just the patient," Martin said, irked that they were following him.

"Hey Doc, turned out the disturbance at the Slipway was a domestic dispute with some newbie scuba divers," came Penhale's voice from the front door. "Seems the husband kicked his wife in the face when they were exploring an old wreck. He _says_ it was an accident."

Unfamiliar voices of a man and a woman began to bicker. "Tim, you clumsy oaf. I told you you didn't have the proper buoyancy but you just had to keep flailing about without watching out for me," the woman said.

Too many people coming in, Martin thought, things were getting out of hand. "Wait out there!" he shouted.

Christopher had Louisa's brother on the exam table and was listening to his heart with Martin's stethoscope. Martin shooed him away but the old man hovered over his shoulder, watching him don gloves and methodically pick out the remaining jellyfish stingers with tweezers.

"Archaeological venture, indeed!" Martin snapped at him. "You never could resist an opportunity to throw your money away. Only it's my money you're squandering now. At least it seems your arrival has discouraged Louisa from squandering her money on her brother's undersea folly."

"Never fear, Doc," said Louisa's brother. "My ship has finally come in." He uncurled his right hand and held up an inch-long lump between his thumb and forefinger. "Thought I was gonna die when I got attacked and had to get up to the surface in a hurry but I wasn't about to let this little find go. Go on, have a look."

Martin took it and held it up by the window. It was a crystalline mineral, cut into a polished cabochon shape, that glowed a deep clear green. The sunlight revealed a six-pointed star pattern inside. "Hmm. Emerald. Unusual specimen," he observed.

"It's a beauty, innit," said Louisa's brother, taking it back. "And there's more where that came from. Plenty more. And some old Spanish doubloons in the bargain. I stashed some aboard the _Louisa_."

"The what?"

"Our boat. But I brought this green beauty to show Louisa we was right all along. My sister, that is. She's been quite the inspiration to all of us this past week, even without giving up her money. Don't worry, I'll see my little Lou Lou is taken care of when we get this whole business sorted."

"If you got this from an old shipwreck there are laws governing this sort of thing," Martin sputtered. "Anyway, Louisa is already well taken care of, and she… she… can take care of herself."

"Ah, the lovely Louisa. I met up with her this morning," Christopher smirked. "While you're being self-righteous about things I might bring up the little matter of the grandson you never saw fit to mention. So you finally decided to carry on the Ellingham name. Didn't think you had it in you. I noticed you haven't managed to marry the girl, so far she's slipped through your fingers. If you don't take care there might be another doctor in her future."

"Where is Louisa anyway? I thought she'd turn up here ahead of us," the fair-haired man suddenly spoke up.

"Well I really opened up the Jag on the motorway," said Christopher. "A Lexus doesn't have a chance against her."

Arse, thought Martin. It wasn't the first time he had thought that about his father.

"But we would have passed her on the moor then," said the fair-haired man. "We didn't see her. She got enough of a head start on us."

Martin was starting to get concerned about her and James's whereabouts, but the distractions in his office were multiplying. Who was this man accompanying Dad anyway? Louisa's brother had a clear resemblance to her. Danny Steel's cousin showed a family resemblance to that wretched architect. This other man had a tall, stocky build and light colouring, and stood eye-to-eye with Martin himself.

_To be continued…_


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: To Really Mean Someone Harm.

Saturday midday.

"I have a right to get to know my grandson," Christopher continued, interrupting Martin's thoughts. "He's the next generation surgeon in the family line, I'll see to that even if you won't."

"I don't want you anywhere near him," Martin retorted. His fingers were tensing again.

"What's the hold up? My wife has a possible broken nose and my ear is killing me," said a man, walking into the exam room. "So this is where you lot have got to. You've been removing artefacts from an archaeological wreck that we've laid claim to. You the Doc here?" he said, looking at Christopher.

"I'm the doctor, this is _my_ surgery, patients are to wait outside until they are called in, one at a time," Martin shouted. He began herding everyone out toward the reception, where Penhale was waiting, along with the wife holding a handkerchief to her nose, a vaguely familiar old man on a mobility scooter, and a young man with tattoos peeking out under his sleeves and deep bruises around his eyes. Unlike the others, who had at least thrown on some dry clothes, the tattoed young man was actually wearing his wetsuit right there in the reception.

"My Norman's diving mask was too tight and now he's got panda eyes. I want to know what you're going to do about it," the old man demanded. "And this surgery has no ramp for my scooter, it's a violation of the Disability Discrimination Act."

"Dad, you can walk if you want. You got yourself up the steps and made me carry your scooter in here," the panda-eyed son said.

"Doesn't matter, it's still a violation," the old man insisted.

"This surgery is in compliance with the Equality Act of 2010," exclaimed Penhale, "but Mr. Tonken I warned you and your son about conducting your criminal activities within the boundaries of Portwenn."

"And what's this I'm hearing about removing artefacts from an archaeological wreck?" he continued. "It is a criminal offence under the Protection of Wrecks Act of 1973 to interfere with a shipwreck of historical, archaeological, or artistic value. Everyone here who has participated in this criminal offence will please raise their hands."

They all ignored him.

"If it's more than two, you will have to wait here while I summon assistance, as I only have two pairs of handcuffs available. Please be patient, it could take a while for PC Trelawney to arrive from Wadebridge," Penhale announced.

"The Protection Act is for designated wrecks," retorted Danny Steel's cousin. "This is a new discovery, it's not on the admiralty charts."

"But we found it first and you have been removing artefacts from _our _claim. I'll take that," said the woman with the broken nose, shoving Louisa's brother and snatching the emerald out of his hand.

"You've no right to it," Louisa's brother replied, "I'm the owner of the map, it was all my idea, none of you would have known anything about it if it wasn't for me."

Now two more men came through the front door. Monozygotic twins, each with slight ear deformities that indicated past traumatic auricular haematoma, Martin noted. Broad-shouldered, with dirty blond hair, they were identical but for two details. One had the blistering red rash of jellyfish stings on his face, hands, and forearms.

Martin pointed to the other twin. "How long have you experienced ptosis?"

"What?"

"Your drooping eyelid. Is it congenital or has it developed more recently?"

The man looked at him stupidly. His brother answered for him. "It's been coming on for weeks, ever since he got socked in the eye in a fight."

"Hmm. You should see an ophthalmologist as soon as possible. That's an eye doctor. It could be the result of trauma or it could be an indicator for any number of conditions, such as myasthenia gravis or even a brain tumour," Martin said.

"Tom Glasson! You tried to kill me, shoving me into that jellyfish," the stung twin exclaimed, looking past Martin.

"More like _you_ tried to kill _me_, shoving me first. I only shoved back in self defence. Not my fault you wore a shorty wetsuit so you had more exposed skin to get stung."

_"__Shut up, all of you!"_ boomed Martin. "Diving is a very dangerous sport if you don't know what you're doing. It's a wonder you didn't all get yourselves killed. You!" He pointed to the broken-nosed woman holding the emerald, "give that back and come through, into my office, so I can see if there's anything wrong with your head besides terminal idiocy. The rest of you stay out here!"

The woman bristled but obeyed. In the office, Christopher had opened a cabinet and was looking at the tray of sterilized surgical equipment kept sealed and ready for use. "I see you're trying to keep your hand in, son. Never know when you might have to perform emergency surgery on a tourist with a stubbed toe, eh?"

"Put that back and _get out!_" Martin was seething. He turned to the woman and grunted for her to sit on the exam table. As Christopher went into the reception area, Martin could hear the arguing resume.

Then one angry male voice was raised above all the others. "You again! Messing with my Fiona behind my back, you dirty old tosser."

Martin strode back into the reception to see the droopy-eyed twin shouting at Christopher, who was grinning at him. "I could kill you, old man," Droopy Eye said, pulling out a large knife.

Everything changed in that moment. The crowded room fell silent.

There was something about a knife that gave Martin a chill like nothing else. Even at the height of his surgical career, he had felt the power inherent in holding a blade. In skilled, caring hands it could save a life that was slipping away. In ignorant, angry hands, it could end a life that was strong and vibrant. In a way, it was worse than being confronted with a gun. To hurt someone with a knife took effort, you had to get in close and personal. You had to really mean someone harm.

The man lunged and swung the blade at Christopher, who instinctively threw up his hands to fend it off. The sharp tip raked his palms, drawing a bright red line across one hand to the other. Christopher gasped. Everyone froze, even the attacker.

Defence wounds resulting in laceration of the palmar surfaces, Martin instinctively thought. This was the second time a madman with a knife had invaded his office and home. Martin had not forgotten the helpless feeling of being tied up, unable to protect Louisa, Pauline, or himself. He never wanted to feel that way again. Now the sight of his father's skilled, delicate surgeon's hands dripping with red sparked in him a blind rage that chased away all rational thought.

The attacker laughed maniacally and moved to lunge again. Martin charged, knocked his hand aside, knocked him down, pinned him, slammed his head backwards on the hard floor to stop him from gaining any advantage in the fight, the memory of all the bullies of his entire life suddenly focused on this one man, driving Martin to act as he had never done in his life. Then the others were pulling him off. Penhale and the fair-haired man together got the angry assailant face down, hands behind his back, and snapped a pair of the constable's handcuffs onto his wrists. Louisa's brother, Danny Steel's cousin, and even Panda Eyes took down the other twin to keep him from taking his brother's side in the fight.

Eyes blazing, Martin struggled to his feet, muttering "contusion to the back of the head, possible mild concussion, need to check his pupils," as his father took hold of his arm, saying "take it easy son, you may have got the worst of it."

Martin smelled the sharp metallic tang before he saw the red. Bright, richly oxygenated arterial red. A wave of it was spreading out from his right arm across his pristine white shirt, staining the blue check silk tie that Louisa liked. It was warm and sticky against his skin. He felt the nausea his adrenaline rage had suppressed a moment ago. His knees buckled. Hands reached out to ease him to the cold floor. He could see the blood seeping out in spurts as someone pressed against the wound. There's no time for this, have to get to the market before Louisa and James Henry get home, no time, he thought.

Through a brown haze faces hovered over him, a pounding in his ears drowned out their faraway commotion, until all he could hear was a calm voice saying "severed artery, call an ambulance… patient rapidly bleeding out… condition critical."

_To be continued…_


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Strangers Took Him Away From Her

Saturday midday.

Hot and tired, Louisa had reached Fore Street when she checked her mobile again. It showed a strong signal by now but she was so close to home she decided not to bother calling Martin. It was best if she sat him down in person and explained everything she had learned. There were no messages from him so everything must be fine so far. She started up Roscarrock Hill, once again grateful she had left the baby with Ruth.

As she approached the cottage she was dismayed to see the Jaguar convertible parked at a careless angle and Penhale's police vehicle blocking the road. The front door of the cottage was wide open and there were people spilling out onto the stone terrace, clearly agitated. Oh no, I must be too late, she thought.

Startled, she recognized the Bowdens, Eddie Prescott, and others as PC Penhale and Harvey pulled a handcuffed Emrys Prescott out and down the steps. "What's going on?"

There was too much commotion to get a coherent answer so she fled into the reception room, only to find a battlefield.

Two men leaned over a bloody figure lying supine as a dark stain spread out on the carpet. Louisa couldn't comprehend what was going on - where they hurting him? His shirt and tie were soaked in blood and he was so pale he was almost grey. She could only just hear him say in a hoarse whisper "severed artery, call an ambulance… patient rapidly bleeding out… condition critical."

"Martin!" she cried out, rushing to him. Only then did she grasp that it was Christopher Ellingham and Alex Bamford leaning over him, cutting away his shirt sleeve and trying to stanch the bleeding with wads of gauze. Christopher's hands were wrapped in bloodstained bandages. "Keep back," he ordered.

"It's nicked his brachial artery," he barked into his mobile. He handed the phone to her. "Here, we've got the dispatcher on the line, ask them how fast the ambulance can get here."

Thrust into the thick of it, Louisa did her best to take over the 999 call. "I don't know what happened. Can you get the helicopter to land at the Platt? He looks… _bad_." Her voice broke. She listened as the dispatcher explained that the helicopter was responding to a call in Newquay but the land ambulance could be there in about six minutes. "I understand. Please tell them to hurry," she said, ringing off. "They said about six minutes," she told Christopher and Alex.

"He's already going into shock," said Alex. "He'll never make it."

"There's no time," Christopher agreed. "In less than five minutes he'll either have a stroke or bleed out."

"Is there anything you can do?" Louisa pleaded.

"Fetch a blanket and pillows," Christopher ordered. Louisa did so. She remembered her basic first aid training and elevated Martin's feet and shoulder with the pillows and covered him with the blanket. She loosened his belt and tie, noting that it was the blue checked silk one and thinking how strange the little things you notice in a crisis. She took his left hand and held it up to her lips. "He feels so cold," she said, her voice breaking again. She wasn't sure she could stay calm much longer.

Martin stirred a little and murmured something. "Don't move," Alex said. "You need to regulate your breathing. Try and slow your heartbeat down."

"Go get his surgical gear," Christopher barked. Louisa darted off and returned with one of the sealed trays she had seen Martin use when he operated on her mother's strangulated hernia.

"He's too big to move, we'll have to work on him here. I… don't know if I can…" Christopher's voice, normally so confident, faltered. "It's up to you to scrub up, son."

Alex leapt up and ran to the exam room. Seconds ticked by and he returned, masked and gloved. Louisa found a torch in Morwenna's desk and held it overhead as he went to work and Christopher tied a tourniquet about the arm and directed him.

"Atraumatic eyeless needle, no need to thread the suture it's already attached. Cut to make the incision, just there. Now mount the needle in the needle holder. Now start the sutures. It's a simple, uninterrupted stitch. Steady. You OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Alex.

"No, I mean are you OK?" This was directed at Louisa.

"Uh…" She couldn't speak, she could only just manage to hold the torch steady.

"This will be over very soon," Christopher muttered, more to himself than anyone. "One way or the other."

Louisa's hand began to shake, and a sob escaped her. Alex paused but did not look up. "Show some sensitivity, Dad," he snapped. "Steady on," Alex told Louisa. She felt ashamed he was comforting her when he was doing the difficult work. "Don't worry about me," she said.

Alex made one more careful stitch, then tied off the suture.

"Right, let's see if it's held." Christopher examined his work and loosened the tourniquet. "Good. Now all we need to do is get him to hospital as soon as possible. You've got a steady touch, son. You missed your calling."

With Alex's encouragement, Louisa began to gently bandage the wound.

Alex took his father's hands in his own and unwrapped the dressing to have a look. "Palmar lacerations. You're lucky, fairly superficial. Could have been a lot worse," he said. "Hate to see those surgeon's hands ruined."

"Hurts like the devil." Christopher's tone was gruff. "Thanks for pitching in there. Forty years I spent in theatre, never once froze up like that. Don't know what came over me."

At last, Louisa heard the ambulance stop outside. The EMTs brought a gurney onto the terrace and through the open front door. As they eased Martin onto the gurney and hooked him to an IV, Alex rewrapped Christopher's hands and Louisa could see those hands were trembling.

"Sometimes it hits you," Alex said. "You suddenly see a particular patient as more than just flesh and blood, but a person with a place in the world, a place in a community, maybe someone's parent, spouse, sibling… someone's child." He still held the older man's hands. "It can get in the way of objective medical practice, but it can remind even the finest doctor he's only human."

Christopher grunted. His mannerisms suddenly seemed so familiar to Louisa, just like those of another Ellingham who would resort to gruff monosyllables to cover uncertainty when confronted with an emotional situation.

"Sir, are you going to need to come with us?" one of the EMTs broke the moment. He gestured at Christopher's newly re-bandaged hands. "We've got room for one more."

"I'm fine, fine, barely scratched." Christopher snapped back to default mode of confidence and authority. He pointed to Louisa. "Take her. She should go with him."

* * *

><p>On the long ride to the hospital, all Louisa could think of was another ambulance ride some years ago and it wasn't the happy one after she had given birth.<p>

The EMT this time was quietly efficient, but a small pattern of rust on the ceiling marked this as the very vehicle in which Martin had saved young Peter Cronk one wild night.

Every detail of that ride was burned into her memory: the rust pattern; the maddening dismissiveness of that other EMT; how Martin told the truth to Peter; how he rolled up his sleeves and loosened his collar, so unlike him normally; the way he bit off the cap of the portacath and clutched it in his teeth as he inserted the needle, his sensual lips tense with anxiety; his shamed confession that he might vomit, though in fact he did not; the spray of blood as he cut into flesh to find the bleed; his dismay as the lifesaving clamp fell apart in his gloved hands like a nightmare come true; the reckless plunge of his huge hand into the small body to stop the bleeding; how he kept his delicate hold on Peter's life as the vehicle raced and jostled over the moor road; how his fingers and mind went numb but he held on as they flew the final moments into the ambulance bay and he didn't let go till they pried him loose and took the boy away from him; how he stumbled from the vehicle and the A&E nurse saw him bloodied and near fainting and thought he was in need of aid too, but he protested all he needed was a clean shirt and a place to wash up; and he followed the gurney while clutching Louisa's hand till the double doors closed to them and, suddenly embarrassed, they dropped each other's hands, and went to wait amid the walking wounded and anxious loved ones that filled the reception.

Until then, Martin had been merely a peculiar man to whom she had been peculiarly attracted. When she saw his brilliance, his dedication, his determination to carry on despite the weakness for which others mocked him, he was… heroic.

That was the night she fell in love with him. She had loved him ever since, even during the times she hated him.

Now she lifted his hand again. It was so very, very cold. She laid it against her cheek, then pressed the fingers to her lips and blew gently, as if to infuse warm life back into him. He groaned softly as the ambulance flew over uneven pavement but he remained unconscious. She kept hold of his hand and didn't let go until they arrived at A&E and strangers took him away from her.

_To be continued…_


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: The Very Familiar Stranger

Sunday morning.

The first thing he knew was warmth. He knew nothing of time or the world, he was a stranger to himself. He only knew that he existed and that he loved and was loved, and he had been so cold and now he was bathed in gentle golden sunlight. He was wonderfully, ecstatically warm.

A while later, the warmth had faded and there was a distinctive smell: iodoform disinfectant, with faint notes of bodily effluvia and bad coffee. He heard the noise of a machine, slow and rhythmic. Against his skin he felt coarse cotton softened by frequent laundering. He knew that smell, that sound, that texture. He was in hospital. The slow rhythm was an ECG, the fabric was a hospital gown and bed linens. There was also a far away voice, a young woman.

"You can't go in there," she said. "It's not visiting hours yet."

"Nonsense," a male voice insisted. "We're here to check on my son."

"It's all right nurse, they're… professional colleagues," said another male voice. "Yes, of course Mr. Pitts," the woman replied.

Martin groaned and opened his eyes. His head and shoulder ached. He lay in bed with an oxygen cannula on his face, an IV tethered to his arm, and electrodes taped to his chest. His face was turned toward the window. There was no sunlight, just roiling dark clouds advancing and a low rumble of thunder, prefacing a storm coming in from the ocean. He turned the other way and an even more depressing sight loomed over him.

"Dad."

"You're recovering well enough. Took 500 millilitres of O Negative each from us two, plus some more from the bank, to get you going again. Something of a rare vintage, lucky for you we all match," Christopher said, glancing at his chart.

"We followed you yesterday," he went on. "They took me into A&E after you to get me properly seen to." He held up his now neatly bandaged hands. "We got an early start from Port Liac this morning to see you. Made good time. Really opened up the…"

"Yes, yes, you violated the local speed laws," Martin cut him off impatiently. The effort felt exhausting. "Are Louisa and James Henry all right?"

"They're fine, they'll be here soon enough. We brought some clothes for you to wear when you're discharged. Your own togs were a right mess. I figured anything Alex could spare would fit you well enough. We got here early because… well we figured we owe you… I owe you… an explanation."

Martin turned to look at the very familiar stranger who accompanied his father. The fair-haired man was sitting in a corner observing them both with great interest. What did Dad call him again, Allen? No, Alex.

Alex got up and extended a hand. "It's an honour to finally meet you Martin."

Martin tentatively reached out and shook the man's hand. "Yes, I'm sure your clothes will fit me perfectly," he said. "I think I'm beginning to catch on."

_To be continued…_


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Ellingham Way

Saturday midday.

Louisa rubbed her nose against James Henry's little nose. She regarded his dear, sweet face. Pale blue-grey eyes, blond lashes, round nose, full mouth, a fluff of white blond hair covering a rather large pair of ears. He looked back with a grin and said "do again!" She repeated the action and they both giggled.

"I'm no expert in early childhood development but he seems well ahead of his age group in language skills," said Ruth. "I recall Martin was practically speaking complete sentences before the age of two. When he felt like talking, that is."

They were sitting in the hospital cafe, waiting for Martin to be discharged. Last night, after being reassured that Martin would make a full recovery, Louisa had gone back to Portwenn to meet Ruth and James at the cottage. The older woman offered to stay the night with them and Louisa was relieved to have the company. Ruth had also taken charge of rolling up the bloodstained carpet from the reception area and putting it outside for Al Large to haul away.

"I'm so grateful for your help, Ruth. Really, I don't know what I would have done without you," Louisa said. She poured some milk into her tea and gave James a plain biscuit to chew on. "I'd hate for Martin to see that stain when he comes home. Even if I could have gotten it cleaned, just the thought of it, having to see every day the spot where he almost…." She couldn't finish that sentence.

"Well, I think an oriental will be a nice change for that room, brighten things up really," Ruth said.

"It was such a shock," Louisa continued. "Thank God this little one was with you. Oh I know he's not old enough to know what was going on, but it helped me cope, knowing he was safe with you far away from what was happening."

"No, you're absolutely right. Even at this age, babies can pick up if a parent is experiencing an emotional trauma. And who knows what else might have happened if you'd come upon the scene just a few moments earlier," Ruth said. "Glad I could help."

She stirred her tea, took a sip, and looked thoughtful. "So you got to meet my delightful brother. Funny how he castigated Joan for her supposed immorality back in the day. Joan and I always knew he couldn't keep it in his trousers himself but how Joan would have laughed to find out Christopher was careless enough to father a child with one of his mistresses. He certainly owed her an apology, instead he tried to cheat her out of the farm."

Ruth took another sip. "Joan and Chris used to fight like cats and dogs, but you know I always thought the two of them were more alike than not. Both big, blustery personalities, rather like our father. It's the Ellingham way to come down hard on those you love. Father was very strict with us, but surprisingly he seemed rather fond of his only grandson. The only one he knew of. He died before he could have much impact on Martin's life though."

"Still, Joan was a kinder, warmer sort," she continued. "She would try to enlist me to her side in family quarrels but I mostly managed to stay out of it."

"You seem like the family mediator," Louisa said.

Ruth nodded. "It was always more my role to be the dispassionate observer**.** In fact, when Joan had the affair with that yachtsman, John Slater, I thought he was rather the same blustery type as Father, and Christopher too. Not that she could see it. And fortunately she married Phil, a better man than any of them."

She finished off her croissant. "Anyway, Joan would have been so tickled to have a second nephew. What a shame Chris kept him a secret, though no surprise I suppose. I'd like to meet this young man."

"Well he could be Martin's twin," said Louisa. "But so different in personality and so different from their Dad too. He's really rather sweet. He's actually…" She cut off the thought but Ruth finished it for her.

"Normal?" Ruth looked her in the eye. "So they could be twins but this one got the sweeter disposition. Could pose a dilemma for a woman in a relationship with a difficult man, with whom she is often in conflict, to meet a version of him that's easier to get on with."

Louisa felt herself flush with embarrassment. Ruth was very perceptive, she thought. "I can't say I wasn't attracted to him at first," she admitted. "But really it's not like he's perfect either. He can be impulsive and even a bit irresponsible. Even before I realized how close I came to losing Martin, I had already decided Alex and I were better off as simply just friends."

"So he's completely different from Martin and Christopher but he did go into the family business," Ruth mused, "and in the end that proved lucky for Martin and Christopher."

James held up his arms to be picked up again. Louisa rubbed his nose one more time, and looked up to see a more mature version of that dear, sweet face come into view. Martin looked pale but greatly improved from the day before. He wore a casual button down shirt with bandages visible on his arm and shoulder underneath, and his arm was in a sling. He was being pushed in a wheelchair by Alex, as Christopher walked alongside.

"I'm not an invalid," Martin snapped. "I can bloody well walk out of hospital on my own two legs."

"Now, you know it's hospital policy. You don't walk out on your own until officially discharged," Alex replied calmly.

"That's right, official policy, so stop whinging and let him wheel you," Christopher ordered, touching his hand to Martin's forehead. "You've had a major injury. You're lucky you had a top surgeon on hand to repair your nicked artery. That's why you're here now complaining and not in the mortuary. That tosser Pitts wants to take credit for saving the son of an esteemed surgeon, but he just did the cleanup after we got you here. He's a bit of an arse. Trained under you, didn't he."

"You act like you're the only one who's ever accomplished anything in his career," Martin retorted. "It wasn't you that sutured the artery. It was… er… Alex here. He did excellent work considering he didn't even train as a surgeon. He took care of you too. You're lucky you didn't have serious damage to the tendons, ligaments, muscles, and nerves in your hands. In fact it was your inability to control your impulses that brought all of this down on both of us. Not to mention your involvement with this hare-brained treasure hunt."

"You two," Alex said, smiling. "You just pick up sparring with each other like nothing's happened."

Louisa was taken aback to see them all together. "So you've met," she said. "I had hoped to prepare you Martin, to explain things… before… things just happened the way they did."

Christopher came over to look at James Henry. "May I?" He held out his arms. Louisa glanced at Martin, who said nothing but nodded curtly. Still, Louisa hesitated to let him pick up the baby.

"Don't worry," Christopher said. "We got off on the wrong foot, but I'm perhaps not _quite_ the monster you may think me. At least not where my sons, or grandson, are concerned."

She let him take the baby. He and James studied each other. The baby grasped the sunglasses from the breast pocket of his grandfather's jacket, carefully worked out how to unfold them, and managed to place them, upside down, on his own face.

"Good fine motor skills," Christopher declared. "He's got the makings of a future surgeon all right."

Ruth stood and offered a hand to Alex. "If no one else will introduce me, I'm Ruth Ellingham, Martin's aunt, and apparently yours as well," she said. "So isn't this a cosy family group. We should pose for a portrait to put on our Christmas cards."

While the others talked, Martin stood up from the wheelchair and went to Louisa. He still looked tired so Louisa guided him to a chair at the table and stroked his arm in the sling.

"So you know everything now," she said softly. "I wanted to tell you in person yesterday, to lessen the shock. Sorry how it all turned out. I was so afraid when I saw you on the floor, with Alex and your Dad trying to stop the bleeding. So afraid… we would lose you."

Martin looked down and she could see a glint of moisture in his eyes. "Right," he said, regaining his composure. "I've missed you and James. Let's go home."

_To be continued…_


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: The Wedding

Two months later. Saturday morning.

When Louisa stood in the church doorway, she knew she had made the right decision.

This was nothing like last time, when the jokes and gossip had preyed on her doubts and caused her to stand up Martin on their first wedding day. Never mind that Martin had done the same to her that day. How long ago it all was. Louisa felt like a different person now, she knew Martin so much better, and though she still sometimes wondered if they had what it took to go the distance together, till death do them part, she was ready to commit herself fully to the man who was the father of her child and the love of her life.

She was so nervous getting ready. Caroline assured her the dress, an elegant, ankle-length ivory silk crepe design from Belle & Bunty of London – totally different from her first wedding gown (which had long since been sold at a second hand shop) – looked gorgeous on her. They had trouble getting her hair exactly right though, especially with the veil pinned into place. They arrived at the church 15 minutes late. Louisa felt guilty making Martin wait so long, but she knew he would be there.

Indeed he was there, looking so smart in his black suit, white shirt, and red tie, with a single white rose in his buttonhole. He looked characteristically stern but his expression softened when she appeared in the doorway. She clutched her bouquet of field flowers to her breast and motioned her head for him to take his place at the altar. She felt like a princess moving through the aisle to Wagner's Bridal Chorus, smiling at all the well-wishers in their Sunday best and turning to wave at James Henry sitting in Morwenna's lap.

Louisa exchanged some whispered words with Martin, until Rev. Counter cleared his throat, wagged his finger at them, and spoke in a sonorous voice.

"Barely deloved," he began. Although Martin had nagged the vicar about his ruinous drinking habits, it seemed the man was still fond of the odd tipple. "We are gathered here today to bless the joining of this man and woman in holy matrimony. Marriage is not to be entered into lightly but reverently."

He leaned in toward them and said _sotto voce_, "which means you have to be sure." They both assured him they were.

"If anyone present can show just cause why they should not be lawfully married, speak now or forever hold your peace," the vicar declared to those gathered in the pews. James let out a cry, and everyone laughed. Louisa turned and smiled at him. Even Ruth's muttered comment "out of the mouths of babes" couldn't ruin the moment.

"In which case, do you Louisa Roberta Glasson, take Martin Christopher Ellingham to be your lawful wedded husband?"

"Yes, I do."

"And do you Martin Ellingham…" Martin cut him off to get the point. "Yes I do."

"Hmm," said the vicar. "Does the best man have the ring?"

"Yes," said Martin. Standing beside him, Alex took Louisa's ring from his pocket and handed it to him. Side by side, with Alex in formal attire that was as atypical for him as it was typical for Martin, they looked more like twins than ever. In the pews, Penhale let out an audible sigh of disappointment.

Martin put Louisa's ring on her finger. He then transferred his grandfather's wedding ring, which he had always worn on his right hand since it came down to him from his grandfather's estate, to his left hand. Louisa was bemused that he ignored the vicar's instructions, impatient to move the formalities along in typical Martin fashion.

"Yes, right, we're not quite ready for the putting on the finger bit but uh… apparently we are," said the vicar. "So by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife."

A collective "awww" went up from the pews and Louisa turned expectantly toward her new husband. "You may kiss the bride.'

With everyone watching, Martin hesitated and then went for it, kissing her full on the lips. Louisa grinned, slightly embarrassed but delighted, with her hand to her cheek. The crowd roared their approval and they exited the church in a hail of pink and white rose petals and photographic flashes, as the little dog called Buddy ran about, barking his congratulations.

_To be continued…_


	25. Chapter 25

This is an extra long chapter, wrapping up some things. Just one more to go after this - Stella D.

Chapter 25: The Reception

Saturday Afternoon

Then it was off by taxi to the Camelot Hotel, the finest venue in the area. Louisa had her heart set on having the reception there, handled by professionals, to avoid any chance of repeating the disaster perpetrated by the Larges on their first catering attempt at the non-wedding. Martin balked at first, because he most recently associated the hotel with their frantic search for young James Henry when Mrs. Tishell had made off with him. Louisa reminded him it was the site of their first official meeting at the PCT interview five years ago, not counting their awkward encounter on the flight into Cornwall.

"Remember I challenged you on your interpersonal skills, and you said your work was nothing but dealing with 'bodies' when you meant to say 'people,'" she said. "And I lit into you after the meeting and you started gawking at my eye again. I thought you were so strange, then you diagnosed my acute glaucoma. I was right about your social skills, but when you walked away and turned to look back at me and then bumped into that doorway I thought perhaps you were rather endearing, in spite of everything. I still think so."

So together they passed through the same doorway where he had bumped his head all that time ago and now it was the entrance to their wedding reception. The very room where she had been the lone dissenting vote when the PCT committee voted to hire him was now transformed with paper hearts, pink and white balloons, and a banner that read "Doc and Louisa." It was filled with music, food and drink, and lively conversation.

Louisa was holding the baby, feeling how thrilling it all was. Over here, Bert and Al were trying the finger foods from a table filled with savouries and sweets, no doubt with Bert disparaging the rival caterers' efforts.

Over there, her new father-in-law, drink in hand, was hovering over Morwenna, apparently attempting to persuade her to take a visit to his hotel room upstairs. "I'm not drunk," Morwenna insisted. "At least I'm not that drunk."

Louisa saw Ruth approaching with two glasses of white wine and smiled. She knew Martin's aunt, now her aunt by marriage, still had her doubts about them as a "chalk and cheese" couple but it was clear Ruth bore no ill will toward her. If anything, the traumatic events of the recent past had brought them closer together and Louisa now found she rather appreciated Ruth's wry outlook on life.

"Oh Ruth, thank you," she said, as the older woman handed her a glass. "I can't believe I'm married. Do I look married?"

"Now you do," Ruth replied. "A day to remember." They clinked glasses and Louisa saw Tom, Harvey, and a Mediterranean-looking woman she didn't recognize approaching them.

"You made it. I'm so glad you're here," she exclaimed. "Ruth, this is my brother Tom, and his friend Harvey. He's Muriel Steel's nephew, you remember Muriel was a friend of Joan's. Everyone, this is Ruth Ellingham, Martin's aunt." She raised her eyebrows at her brother and added, "and who is this with you?"

"This is Selini Stephanidis, my, uh, friend from Santorini. We've been video chatting and, well, we've patched things up and decided to make a fresh start of it on my home ground." Selini smiled and hugged Louisa. "It is a beautiful wedding, you are the beautiful bride, so happy," she said.

"Selini doesn't speak much English," Tom explained.

"So whatever happened with the Spanish shipwreck?" Ruth inquired.

Tom and Harvey looked at each other. "We've got lawsuits going against the Bowdens and the Tonkens, they're suing us, everybody's suing everybody else, and the government is threatening to get it listed as a National Heritage site and arrest us if we remove anything else from it," Harvey said. "So basically it's a mess."

"At least the Prescotts are out of the picture for a long time to come," he added.

Tom and Louisa glanced at each other. Shortly after the Prescotts' arrest, Eddie had insisted that his brother be seen by an eye doctor, as Dr. Ellingham had recommended. Emrys was diagnosed with a primary brain tumour of the frontal lobe, which was likely responsible both for his droopy eyelid and his overly aggressive behaviour. The tumour was reportedly responding well to radiotherapy. In gratitude to for potentially saving his life, Emrys had spared everyone the ordeal of a trial for his assaults on Martin and Christopher by pleading guilty in exchange for a minimum 20-year sentence. On being arrested at the surgery Eddie was found to have cocaine on him so he ended up being sent away for five years. It was happy news but for the fact the brothers were to do their time at Dartmoor, a reminder to the Glassons that their father was also currently a "guest of Her Majesty" there.

"But we've come into some money after all," Tom piped up to lighten the mood. "Turns out the _Esmeralda_ map is a valuable historic artefact. Several museums and private collectors are very interested in acquiring it. We're holding out for six figures. The map may be worth more than the wreck. So we're going to put the money into a new business. Glasson & Steel Dive Adventures. We'll take the tourists on dives to see the _Esmeralda_, newly discovered soon-to-be National Heritage site, and other amazing wrecks off the Cornish coast."

"We'll tell them firsthand how it was discovered by us personally, Steel & Glasson," said Harvey.

"We're still working on the name," said Tom. "But here's the beauty part. We'll specialize in searching for clues to the historic existence of Lyonesse."

"You don't think there's really anything to it, do you?" Louisa asked.

"You don't know what's there till you look," said Tom. "And there's plenty that would pay for a chance to look. We want to collect the evidence and then maybe publish a book about it, with maps and everything. Selini here is an expert on Atlantis, so she can help us link the two together."

"There are plenty that want to believe," said Ruth, now on her second glass of wine. "My mother's family were the Trevillians, legendary in Cornwall as the descendents of the last survivor of Lyonesse. The first Trevillian supposedly rode his white horse ahead of the tsunami to reach safety on high ground. Uncle Dick, Mother's brother, was so proud of that legend. He didn't appreciate it when I said it was a myth. A family coat-of-arms depicting a white horse rising out of the ocean doesn't add up to a factual history. 'No use whistling for Lyonesse!'* I told him, 'nothing beneath those waves but the _Torrey Canyon†.' _ That was the reason he cut me out of his will and left the farm only to Joan and Christopher."

"Well, perhaps I shouldn't have also diagnosed him as a hypochondriac for his habit of circling illustrations in _Gray's Anatomy_ where he thought he might be growing a tumour," Ruth confided, now positively glowing with tipsiness. "I wasn't very tactful in my youth."

"So it's ironic that you ended up with the farm in the end," commented Louisa.

"I think Joan wanted to make it up to me. Don't worry though, Martin will have it someday when I cash in my chips. Whether he wants it or not."

"You've married into an interesting family all right," said Alex, who had come to join the group. As the others began an enthusiastic debate about whether there really was any evidence behind the Trevillian legend, he took Louisa aside and handed her a beautifully wrapped small box.

"I know you said no wedding gifts, but it's just a little something for you. A souvenir of your Port Liac adventure."

Louisa tore the paper and opened the box. Inside was a translucent figure in celadon green about six inches high.

"Oh, a mermaid!" she exclaimed. "Just like the one on the map!"

"A glass one for Miss Glasson," he said. "Well, Mrs. Ellingham now. I remember you said you were afraid to go into the artists' shops for fear little James would break something, so I had them craft something special for you."

"It's exquisite." She kissed him on then cheek. "You are the sweetest brother-in-law anyone could hope for. I know we'll always be friends. I hope there's no, um, awkward feelings."

"Well the best man, or brother, won. I'm even getting used to going by Alex now instead of Martin. I changed the nameplate on my surgery. Oh don't worry about me, I'll bounce back," he grinned. "You remember the barmaid I told you about at the Golden Lion, the one before Fiona?"

"Yes, Rita. She has a little boy. Her husband was working abroad."

"Well she's back in Port Liac, she's officially filed the divorce papers. So we'll see where things head from there."

Louisa could see across the room Chippy Miller, wearing a suit for once instead of his usual fisherman's yellow kit, was talking to Martin and the conversation was plainly not going well. Then Chippy walked away and Christopher moved in to talk to his son. Louisa could tell by the angle of Martin's shoulders and the tension in his lower lip he was still not at ease around the old man.

"Oh dear." She tucked the little mermaid in its box and handed it to Alex. "Could you give this to Ruth? She'll see that it gets safely to Fern Cottage. I think perhaps it's time to intervene."

She went over to her husband and father-in-law. "So you've gone and done it. Never thought I'd see the day," Christopher was saying.

"So you decided to show up. What about Mum?" Martin replied.

"She wanted to come but she… uh… was feeling a bit under the weather."

Martin gave a sceptical grunt. Christopher began shaking salt on a plate of smoked mackerel.

"The fish contains adequate sodium already," Martin said. "You should limit salt intake, at your age especially. Hypertension is a major risk factor for stroke and any number of diseases. When did you last check your blood pressure?"

"Don't be such an old woman," Christopher scoffed. "I'm a doctor, I know perfectly well what I'm doing."

Alex came over to help diffuse the tension. "They do say doctors do make the worst patients," he said.

Martin grunted again, but gave in to Alex's attempt to lighten the mood. Louisa was pleased to see the two of them had established something of a rapport after Martin had gotten over the shock of learning he had a brother and Alex overcame his shyness at getting to know the brother he had long regarded as a remote, unapproachable figure.

She took Martin's arm and gently guided him away. He was still glancing at his father, with an unsatisfied look, as if there was unfinished business there. She wondered if he would ever get the chance to really have it out with the old man. "I saw you talking to Chippy Miller," she said, hoping to get his mind off the situation.

"Why did you invite him? He's hardly a close friend," Martin said.

"I didn't invite him. In fact a lot of people here weren't invited."

"I'd better move them on then," he declared.

"No, it's nice them showing up and wishing us well," she said in a soothing tone. "It's nice."

"They're not thinking about us, they're thinking about free food and cider."

"Well it's the way things work around here Martin. You might've wanted a nice quiet reception, but the village didn't."

"If they're so determined to have a party why don't we just leave them to it?" he replied.

"You have been to a wedding before, haven't you?" Morwenna broke in. "There's the cake cutting and the dancing to go yet."

"Yeah," Louisa teased him. "Just a bit longer."

He agreed reluctantly. Fortunately, just then Penhale started banging on a glass to get people's attention. They mostly ignored him and he banged harder until the glass shattered, to everyone's amusement. Undeterred, he unfolded his notes and, evidently determined to be a part of the wedding party, began the best man speech that Martin had explicitly told his actual best man he didn't want.

"Today, a great man, a great physician," he began, "and the greatest thing to happen to Portwenn since the new parking area at the beach." That got a laugh. "Married…"

Louisa looked proudly at Martin. Bert, clearly enjoying his share of free cider, yelled "You're a tosser, get off!" That got another laugh.

Penhale ploughed on. "Married one of our natural treasures, Louisa Glasson." Martin looked at her and Louisa felt a warm glow of pleasure and embarrassment. "There were a few road blocks and diversions en route. And a quick stopover at the maternity ward. Baby." More laughter. "But happily they have arrived at their destination."

"Oh please sit down," Bert heckled.

"Back in 1984, Tina Turner asked the question, 'what's love got to do, got to do with it?'" Penhale continued. "And the answer is…"

Bert cued the DJ: "Go." The music started to softly play. "Bert! Bert, I haven't finished my speech!" Penhale protested that he had some good jokes, but Bert declared him done, the crowd was getting noisy again, and the music was picking up.

"I think that's meant for us," Louisa said.

"Is it mandatory?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to, Martin."

She wiped her face with a lace handkerchief and Martin took her to the dance floor as the crowd cheered. "I may be a touch rusty," she said. "Or not very good."

"I learnt at school. It was compulsory." Martin moved her about expertly, then groaned as she stepped on his foot. "Sorry! It's been a while," she said.

He was gracious but couldn't resist asking "Did you have dance lessons when you were a child?"

"No."

"I thought not."

The music continued and people joined them on the dance floor. Martin started scrutinizing the Larges and Penhale, who were huddling by the door. "They're plotting something."

"Oh God, I hope it's nothing embarrassing," she said.

"Why don't we leave while we still can."

He was right, it was time to go, she thought. "Yes. Good."

She picked up James, wrapped him in his blue blanket, while Martin grabbed the nappy bag and they slipped outside but there was no chance for a quick getaway. Bert, now wearing a chauffeur's cap, was waiting for them, next to a red and white Bentley.

"Ah. You're not going to get off that easy my lovers," he said. "We have a surprise for you. You can't have a wedding without a honeymoon." Others began spilling out into the parking lot, obviously in on the plot.

Louisa was delighted at the thought. "Martin! Was this your idea?"

"Absolutely not."

"We have all chipped in and you will be whisked away in this fabulous vehicle to a luxury vacation with all the trimmings," Bert said.

Alex took Martin aside and assured him "It's all been taken care of, between the old man and myself. That Large fellow was planning to bill you for what the whip round didn't cover. He always seems to looking to line his own pockets."

Martin gave another of his characteristic grunts. "Hardly surprising. Well, thank you then."

Ruth was reassuring Louisa she was perfectly capable of looking after James. Louisa was less keen on leaving him behind. "Oh Ruth, I… I don't know."

"It's only for one night dear. He won't feel you've abandoned him. And even if he does he's far too young to remember any of it."

Louisa sighed. "Oh, just one night." There was no stopping whatever it was they had planned for her and Martin.

"Bags all packed and ready to go," declared Morwenna. "In the boot," Bert added.

"What do you mean, you've been in our bedroom?" Martin said.

"Riffling through your ironed boxer shorts," she grinned. "Oh yes!" Bert added.

Martin was incredulous. _"What?!"_

Ever diplomatic, Al took that moment to intervene. "The Large Restaurant has donated a fully stocked hamper to get your honeymoon night off with a bang Doc."

"Oh Martin, can we?" Louisa pleaded.

"Uh… if you… if you really want to," Martin stammered.

"Quick," said Bert. "Before he changes his mind."

They got in the car. "Oh bye James," Louisa said. "Ruth, thank you so much. Now listen, there's food in the fridge. He likes banana custard. But don't let him get a hold of the spoon or you'll be sorry. And he's not been sleeping very well."

"Yes dear, you've already told me," Ruth said.

Bert started the engine. Martin leaned out of the car, advising "You might want to try a vigorous rocking motion."

Louisa leaned out too. "No, not too… not too hard though. And he loves his purple dinosaur, it's the little one on the bed."

"Mind your dress," Morwenna said, as they closed the door and made their final goodbyes. Penhale appeared at the window on Martin's side of the car.

"Doc, I didn't finish my speech," he said. "I've got this great joke. This man goes to the doctor, he says 'doctor, doctor…'" The car started to move and Penhale raised his voice over the noise. "…'I think I need glasses'…"

Martin got out of the car, tore off the tins cans the pranksters had affixed to the back, and tossed them, hitting Penhale. People laughed and Martin and Louisa drove away, grateful for some quiet at last.

_To be continued…_

*Ruth is quoting the first line of Sylvia Plath's poem "Lyonesse."

†The _Torrey Canyon_ was an oil tanker that struck a rock and sank off the coast of Cornwall in 1967, causing an environmental disaster. The wreck is still out there.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: The Honeymoon and The Damper.

Saturday evening.

"So Bert, where are you taking us?" Louisa inquired.

"You two lovebirds just sit back and enjoy the ride. This is your day."

"Just tell us where we're going Bert," Martin insisted.

"I don't want to ruin the surprise Doc. Let's just say it's the most romantic spot in the whole of Cornwall. It comes with a Bert Large stamp of approval."

"That doesn't exactly fill me with confidence."

"I had my honeymoon in this lodge Doc. That's how deep the personal guarantee goes."

"Oh right," Louisa said. "So we're staying in a lodge."

"Oh great, that's the surprise ruined," Bert said. "Well I hope you're happy with yourselves."

Louisa watched the rural scenery go by. "I don't think I've ever been out this way before."

"That's the beauty of it. Isolated. Romantic. No one around to disturb you. I spent my entire honeymoon _naked_."

Martin was disgusted. "Oh Bert!"

The portly chauffeur continued, undeterred. "'Twas the wife's idea. She said 'Bert we're married now. The nearest house is a mile away. What do we need clothes for?' Like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, we were." He chuckled as Martin closed the window separating them from him.

Oblivious, Bert kept talking, his voice now muffled. "Of course I kept my socks on. It was a bit chilly, right."

They drove deep into the inland countryside, past a signpost for Treswigga and Deacons, tiny hamlets Louisa, Cornish native that she was, had never heard of. The Bentley sped across the moors, passing shaggy grazing ponies, ramshackle farmhouses, and the occasional haggard yokel who stared blankly as they went by.

"Here, not much farther," Bert said. "You'll see. Hidden gem, it is."

Still they kept going. At last, they arrived at a little grey, ivy-covered bungalow. "There we are," he announced.

Louisa was charmed. "Oh, this is perfect. Bert, thank you so much."

"It certainly looks all right from the outside," Martin grudgingly admitted.

Bert brought out a wicker hamper: "Champagne and vittles. Just to keep you ticking over."

"Oh, how romantic!" Louisa exclaimed. Martin thanked him.

"We'll sort out the money later Doc."

"I thought you said this was a gift," Martin said. "Alex told me he and my father had it covered."

"Well yes, of course. But that didn't include the hiring of this fine vehicle and the services of the chauffeur, yours truly."

"So you're no doubt lining your own pockets at the same time," Martin snarled.

Bert ignored him. "Now, I'll be back in the morning to pick you both up."

"How much?"

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"How much is this going to cost us?"

"Cheers and gone." Bert drove away, obviously eager to avoid answering that question.

"Bert! Stop! Bert! Stop!" Louisa tried to calm Martin down, but he was too worked up, yelling _"Bert! Idiot!"_

"I'm sure it won't be that much," she said.

"He's driven off with our luggage," Martin said, thoroughly disgusted. "We've got no clothes to change into or even toothbrushes."

"It's only for a night. I'm sure we can rough it. Come on, let's have a look inside." She was already on the porch, unlocking the front door. "Oh look, it's so beautiful Martin. Look. So kind of them."

Martin followed her, carrying the wicker hamper. He stepped in something foul on the grass and stopped to scrape the sole of his highly polished shoe, muttering "Oh God. Oh God." He stepped over the threshold into a quaint and cosy room furnished in deep rich red tones and dark wood. A large ornate four-poster bed dominated the space.

"Oh isn't it lovely Martin."

"It's a pleasant surprise," he replied, moving about to explore the place.

Louisa put down her bag and tried her mobile. "Oh, no signal. No telephone either, by the looks of things."

"Even better," he said.

"Listen."

"What?"

"Nothing," she said. "Nothing at all. No noise. No traffic. No moaning patients. No crying babies. Just you and me."

Martin went over to the bed and pulled down the red velvet coverlet a bit to examine the bedding.

"What are you doing?" she asked, wondering if he was obsessing about bedbugs as he usually did when staying in a strange place.

"Nothing. I was just… Nothing." He put the covers back.

"Good. Well hello. Husband." She tried out the word as if were the first time she ever said it. It felt good.

Martin moved toward her and responded softly. "Hello. Mrs. Ellingham."

He kissed her, more deeply and passionately than he had when the crowd was watching at the church. He pulled back to look at her and suggested he light a fire.

"And I'll open that bottle of champagne. Whatever you say," she gently teased.

"I didn't say anything."

"I know." Louisa watched as he crouched at the fireplace and got to work. She kicked off her shoes, sat on the sheepskin rug by the hearth, and poured two glasses while he blew on the flame.

"Why do men always want to build a fire?" she mused. "Maybe it's just a caveman thing."

"Actually it's lucky there was so much kindling," he said, sitting beside her. "Important thing is to get it as hot as possible as soon as possible to warm up the flue. Get it drawing. Counteract the air sink."

Out of nowhere, a thought popped into her mind. "Did you open the damper?"

"What damper?"

"It's like a kind of flap with a handle."

"I know what a damper is," he replied, evidently impatient for having been caught in a mistake. He moved over to the fireplace and shifted the handle.

Louisa was amused. "Lucky one of us remembered. Maybe caveman wasn't the right choice of word."

He returned to her side and she handed him a champagne flute. "Cheers."

"Yes."

They clinked glasses and he put his to one side as she sipped the bubbly.

"Do you remember the first day we met?" she said.

"I do. Acute glaucoma." She knew he always remembered events and people best when he associated them with medical symptoms.

"You made me wear an eye patch and I felt like a pirate."

"Mm," he replied. "Of course, the uh… alternative treatment is to apply a parrot to your shoulder."

Louisa was amused and pleased. "That was a joke Martin."

"Yes."

"Very good."

They drew closer and he kissed her again. She marvelled at how much more confident he had become in initiating intimacy since his declaration of love and devotion at Pentire Castle months ago. As the fire warmed the room, she shed her veil and he took off his jacket and tie and hung them up properly. Soon he removed his cufflinks, rolled up his sleeves, and undid his top button.

"My prince of Lyonesse," she murmured.

"Hm?"

"Oh nothing." She moved her hand inside his shirt, caressing the scar on his upper right arm.

"Um, Louisa?"

"Yes?" She could hear he was being serious again and wondered if he was about to revert to one of the blundering diagnostic comments that so often scuttled romantic moments as their relationship had haltingly progressed.

"These last few months … erm, getting to know Alex and all, and seeing your interaction with your brother. Actually also... um, hearing Ruth reminisce about Joan and even about my father, that is, mine and Alex's… well, I've been considering that perhaps I've overlooked the value of sibling relationships and overstated the fertility issues and health risks of pregnancy associated with our… advanced ages."

"Oh?" Louisa was surprised, and pleased, to hear him say this but wondered where he was going with it.

"I was just curious if you were still interested in providing James Henry with a younger brother or sister."

"Yes, Martin. Very much so. Are... _you_ interested?"

"Yes, yes I am. As I said I'm… starting to see the value of it." He picked up his champagne flute and to her amazement actually took a swig from it. Then he moved close again and gently stroked her hair, his pale blue-grey eyes shining in the firelight.

"Right, then," he murmured in the velvet tone she loved. "Let's make a baby."

_The End. _

Thanks to all of you for sticking with my story to the end, and especially to everyone who left a comment – very much appreciated. Even though I had the story written out in advance I couldn't stop from tinkering with each chapter before I posted it, so it kept me very busy during a month when I was extra busy already. Still, I managed to finish on schedule and now I have time to catch up on all the other delightful DM stories. I've got another one in the works but it'll likely be months before it's ready.

Stella D.

_Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night! _


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